


Free Fall

by SuperSillyAndDorky06



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 01, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Apples and Green Rooms, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Felicity Smoak Is His Lobster, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Jealousy, LITERALLY, Light Angst, Meant To Be, Possessive Behavior, Soul Bond, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 86,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3397049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperSillyAndDorky06/pseuds/SuperSillyAndDorky06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity Smoak has never believed in the concept of destined lovers or soulmates. That is, until she encounters a man in green leathers, who seems to have taken an equal interest in her. And she develops very non-platonic feelings for one hot billionaire playboy too. Oliver Queen and The Vigilante are vying for the spot of her destined lover and the tension is hilarious but dark forces await. Her life will never be the same.<br/>SOULMATE AU. Loosely follows Season 1.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mint Chip Emergency

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redmoonchick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redmoonchick/gifts).



> Because you love this story and you are awesome!
> 
> I just really wanted an awesome soulmate fic because I thrive on those so I decided to write one myself.  
> The characters belong to CW but the plot is mine. Any spelling or grammtical mistakes are sadly mine too. My first fanfiction ever, yayy!!!!  
> Comments and kudos, fandom, will be super appreciated.  
> Enjoy!!!!

"I bet you I can," Felicity challenged.

Stana, her college roommate and oldest friend, raised an eyebrow. "You can't last a week without Mint-chip and you know it!"

Giving in to the childish urge, Felicity poked her tongue out and left the house laughing, when it happened. Right underneath the archway of the brick stone in the east side of the Glades, she felt it. For the first time in her twenty-three years on Earth, she understood what her old kook of a childhood neighbour had spoken about.

When Felicity Smoak was five years old, the house next to hers in the heart of Las Vegas had been bought by an old lady from New Orleans who used to say the most impossible things. To a young child with a scientific mind, it was equally irrational and fascinating. Mrs. Navarro became a fixture of Felicity's younger years when her mother was working and she was free. The lady's warmth and kindness allowed Felicity to let all her talks fly by over her head as she tinkered around the equipments in her house.

Mrs. Navarro used to tell Felicity of destiny and destined lovers. She used to speak on and on about how she could see in Felicity's juju that she had a destined lover, a man quite unlike any, a man different from the rest of the crowd. Felicity used to retort, witty even at such a tender age, with a "he might have two heads to accommodate two brains, if he wants to keep up with me, that's for sure". Mrs. Navarro would shake her head fondly at that and look at Felicity like she had a secret no one knew of, about Felicity. It used to annoy Felicity but then the lady would do something sweet like offer her food (which even today has the power to distract her from anything, well almost), and Felicity would forget all about it.

The day Felicity turned sixteen she got her acceptance letter from MIT. A month later, she had her bags packed on the threshold and an armful of teary-eyed Donna Smoak, repeating "My baby girl's grown up" over and over in her ear. To be honest, she had been a little scared herself, because she knew she would be the youngest person in her class in a university a state away from home. Yet, there had been excitement too- to become her own woman, to grow up the way she wanted to, to learn what she had never thought possible and also, to meet someone special.

Right before she had been about to leave, she had quickly run next door and knocked. She still remembered the conversation, which, up until this point of her life, had been the weirdest conversation she had ever had, and that is saying something given the amount of word vomit she inflicts on unsuspecting poor souls on a daily basis.

Mrs. Navarro had opened the door with her trademark warm smile cutting across her weathered face. "Thought you would leave without a good bye, chica?"

Felicity had hugged her warmly. "Without your daily dose of divine intervention of destiny?" She had paused, "That was a lot of D's just now."

Mrs. Navarro had smiled and pushed her hair back from her face with a loving hand. "You are going into a new world, chica. This world will be a stranger to you for a long time. It will be something between a home and an alien land. You will love and lose. You will excel and fail." Felicity's eyes had widened at this point. Mrs. Navarro had never quite sounded so poignant. She had always been dramatic but never this sombre. It had scared her but she continued. "I want you to remember this moment, chica. Your world will remain a stranger to you till that stranger finds you and you him. It is in your destiny. He will need you like you will need him. Then, the world you know will become dangerous, dirty but also divine."

Caught up in the moment, a believer for that second, Felicity had asked, eyes wide upon the woman who had practically become a second mother to her. "How will I know who he is?"

Mrs. Navarro had grinned. "Trust yourself, child. The moment you feel you are falling but you actually will not be, he will be around. You would just have to find him. And you will know what you have to do. Trust yourself. Now go."

With that, she had left Felicity standing stunned for a minute and gone back in her house. Felicity had shaken away the cloud in her brain and bid another farewell to her mother, driving away into a strange world. Over the years, that conversation had not been forgotten but put somewhere in the back of her mind. It came back to the forefront now, rushing.

Felicity stood in the street, the cold air stinging her eyes even behind the glasses, and the dark, moonless night only illuminated by a lone street lamp, the conversation that had happened ages ago coming to her. She could not explain it since she had never believed she was special that way, to have a destined mate, especially after the whole fiasco with Cooper. Yet, she felt it- the sensation of falling from somewhere high churning her stomach and weighing on her chest that made her breaths come out in short pants. Was it actually something that Mrs. Navarro had talked about or was she just coming down with some flu? Given her luck, she was willing to wager on the latter. It wasn't really possible that this was happening because her destined mate was in her proximity, was it? And even if it was, what distance actually triggered something like this? How close was too close? And how long did it last? Would the other person feel it too, or was it just another filter broken in her?

Piqued by her own curiosity and the urge to solve this mystery (she hated mysteries), she started walking to her left, deeper in to the darkness of the street, because something inside her told her that was the way to go. Shoving her hands deep in her pockets, she kept her pace even as the darkness started to creep her out a little. As the street ended, she turned to an alley to the right and stopped dead in her tracks.

Standing almost at the beginning of the alley were two brunettes- a man and a woman. She had seen them both on the television recently so she knew who they were. The gorgeous woman (how could anyone be that gorgeous?) was Laurel Lance, who had been on the news last night due to her role in the Adam Hunt case. Felicity had lived in Starling City long enough to know the rich scumbags like Hunt deserved to have a determined (and gorgeous) lawyer on his tail. The man opposite her was the resident Starling playboy, Tommy Merlyn, whose best friend and partner in crime had returned from the dead a week ago. Talk about coverage. The Presidential elections probably didn't get the airtime Oliver Queen's return had. Not that she blamed the media. Raising the dead was no easy feat.

The couple seemed to be bantering playfully. Wow, Felicity had no idea they were a couple, or were they? Their body language clearly indicated so. And if she was being critical, Tommy Merlyn looked shorter in real than he did in pictures. Damn paparazzi for making the beautiful more beautiful. Felicity sighed. She was getting nowhere. What was she even doing spying on an unsuspecting high profile couple from the darkened corner of an alley? She couldn't hide her disappointment. Her fuzzy feeling, the anticipation of meeting someone- well, this was a little anti-climactic unless her soul mate happened to be Tommy Merlyn (nuh-uh) or Laurel Lance (ew, no). Not that she wasn't gorgeous, in fact she looked gorgeouser, if that was even a word, in person, but Felicity didn't swing that way. Not that she was judging people who did. It was completely their decision and she supported it. Not that...

Shaking off her own internal ramble she could feel coming on, she turned to leave and stopped. On a fire escape high above the gorgeous couple, a man was perched, crouched in the darkness, watching the couple. But it was not that which caught her attention. No, it was his attire. He was dressed in green leather with a hood covering his face, holding a bow. A bow? She squinted her eyes to see better. Yup. A bow. Out of all the things! Rolling her eyes, she mumbled unconsciously, "Looks like someone is fangirling over Katniss."

Oh Lord! She really hated it when her mouth did that. As if on cue three things happened at once: she clamped a hand on her mouth; the sky started pouring cold water, drenching her; and Leather Guy swung his gaze to her.

Her heart stopped. She swore for one millisecond it did. And the free fall in her tummy came back with a vengeance. Even though she was cloaked by darkness, she just knew he could see her, and try as she might, she could not remove her gaze from his. She was too far to make out anything about him but she could feel his gaze on her and it was Intense. With a capital I. Intense. And it scared her. Because if, Mrs. Navarro was right, and if what she felt just now was in fact not a weird dream brought on by her overactive imagination, her life just got more dangerous, dirty and divine, God help her. And her destined mate was apparently a man who dressed in green leather and carried a bow while spying on gorgeous people. Huh, and she thought Joss Whedon was complicated.

Slowly backing out of the alley, still holding his gaze, she turned and ran towards her car. "Oh, Frack! Frack! Frack! Frack!"

She needed to consult. Tonight. On her couch. With Mint-chip. Damn the bet.


	2. Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back!!! I'm so thrilled with the response to the first chapter!!! Thank you so much :)  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter as well. Things are getting hotter.

It had been a week since The Realization as Felicity had dubbed it. A week since Felicity understood that her destiny had decided to set her up with the guy who jumped around wearing a costume using archaic weapons being a vigilante. Wonderful. The police were calling him The Hood. She didn’t know what to call him. She didn’t know what to think of him. 

Shaking off the thought, she looked around the cafeteria on the lower level of the Queen Consolidated building. Although her office was on the eighteenth floor, she came here to eat since their coffee was way, way better than any other in the entire building. The cafeteria was abuzz with a very different sort of energy today and she had no idea why.

She looked at the old guard near the door, the one who was always kind to her as one of the youngest people in the building. Making her way to him, she smiled, “Hey, Paul.”

He turned and returned the smile. “Hello, Ms. Smoak.”

She tilted her head towards the cafeteria she had left. “What is happening today? Everyone is buzzing around like a bee.” She paused. “That is a weird analogy considering Moira Queen would become the Queen bee then. That is just too close a pun to not be intentional.”

Either ignoring her mumblings or not having heard them, Paul replied, “Mr. Queen is coming to the office today.” At her raised eyebrows, he explained, “Oliver Queen.”  
Ah. The raised-from-the-dead Queen. The legally-resurrected-this-morning Queen. Well, that explained the buzzing. Gossip mills would be churning overtime today. Sighing, she thanked Paul and decided to go back up to her office even though she had some time left before her shift began. 

Putting in earphones, she put on her favourite playlist, and shook her head with the upbeat rhythm. She pinged the regular elevator and waited for it to come to her level when it happened again. The sensation attacked her tummy again after a week. What? How the hell was this happening again? Was the Leather Guy here? Or was there a glitch in her system? 

She glanced around to conspicuously check all the men around her when her eyes set upon the commotion at the front gates. The royalty had arrived. The press people were descending on them like vultures. Poor Queens. She kind of felt bad for them. She sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted that sort of attention had she come back from a deserted island after five years. Feeling a weird sort of empathy for the man, she turned back to wait for her elevator, the feeling in her chest intensifying, making her breathing faster. She must be looking like a lunatic, panting for breath while waiting for an elevator. Destiny sure knew how to be awesome. Not. Sigh.

She felt the Queen party coming to stand and wait at the executive elevator next to her in her periphery. Discreetly, resisting the urge to turn and stare outright, she turned her head, covering it up as a sort of weird dance move, and looked. Moira Queen, with her immovable and perfect hair, stood regally, alongside Walter, with all his Britishness. Whatever. Her perfect hair kind of freaked her out. She had her arm tucked in the very muscular one of the prodigal son. Only Oliver Queen could have gone to a deserted island and come back a Tarzan instead of a castaway like any other normal human would have. He had a polite smile on his face but his demeanour seemed quite cold. He seemed on alert, on edge. Well, the hounds of press sort of explained that one. They would give the heebie-jeebies to anyone. 

His head kept moving in a polite nod to whatever Moira Queen was saying as his eyes moved around the area, taking it in. She saw them move past her and come back suddenly; colliding with her own gaze and the sensation of free fall went into overdrive. Everything else suddenly became like white noise in the background. He kept his clear blue eyes on her, the shock in them turning into something she wasn’t able to recognize. She wanted to remove her gaze. That would have been the polite thing to do since you don’t go around getting into intense staring contests with your boss’ stepson and the guy whose name was etched to the side of the building you worked in. She should have removed her eyes from his. But for the life of her, she couldn’t. It was like he was physically holding her gaze captive. They kept staring at each other while his gargantuan bodyguard looked between the two of them, his mother kept talking to him and Walter waited for the elevator. Her eyes could not even move from his to take in the rest of him. They looked and looked at each other and suddenly she was snapped out of it by Walter’s voice. 

“Is there a reason you are staring, Ms. Smoak?” 

She swung her panicked gaze wildly between Walter, and the two Queens, all of whom were staring at her now- one gaze curious, one amused and one calculating. Swallowing, she opened and closed her mouth like a fish, trying to rein in the ramble she could feel coming. The bodyguard’s sympathetic eyes did her in and she started speaking. 

“Actually there can be many reasons why someone would be staring at Mr. Queen, none of which have to do with his most recent, sensational return from the dead.” She swung her gaze wildly between them, praying for them to stop her. No one did and she ploughed on. “I mean his Tarzanisque physique, phew, a thing of beauty. And his face, I’m pretty sure God had been sipping wine, red wine, the good stuff obviously, when he made that face. And he has got the most beautiful blue eyes I have seen and it makes me feel mushy and I can’t believe I’m doing this in front of all of you and why the heck am I still talking? I’m going to shut up, zip it up, right now. Yes.” 

She had closed her eyes halfway through the, ahem, speech and opened it to varying degrees of expression. Moira Queen had her eyebrows raised and looked like she would love to skewer Felicity if she could. She was pretty sure she could. In fact, Felicity could skewer herself. She hated her mouth. Walter looked confused between amusement and indignation. Well, that was a little better. The hulk of a bodyguard’s face was neutral but his eyes seemed to find her funny. Yeah, go figure. 

But it was the expression on Mr. Queen’s face that gave her pause. The corners of his mouth were tilted up just a fraction but his eyes (his eyes!) were outright laughing. Yes, his eyes were laughing and for the world she could not make herself feel bad about that. Something told her this was a rare occurrence; what was happening right now was special; and she could not find it in herself to resent him for it. God knows what sort of shit he had seen in his life, if he found a little delight in the babbling, bumbling IT blonde (a lot of B’s right there, huh) she could not resent him for it. Sighing, she kept her eyes on his own as her elevator opened. 

“Well,” she sighed again, “please don’t be offended. My brain and mouth do that sometimes, well a lot actually.” She turned to Walter. “Please don’t fire me.”  
With that, she escaped to the safety of her elevator, their eyes still connected till the doors shut close. The breath she had been holding escaped in a rush. Phew. What the hell was wrong with her? Going off on a tangent about how hot she thought the boss’ stepson was? In front of the Queen matriarch? And the said hottie? Ugh! She wished at times that earth would open up a hole and swallow her whole. It would at least serve to save her embarrassment. 

As the elevator shot up, she suddenly realized that the sensation of free falling, as Mrs. Navarro had called it, had not escaped her the entire time she had been down there, staring into those gorgeous eyes. Did that mean she had two destined lovers? Oliver Queen and the vigilante? WHAT THE HELL?

Boy, she was in very serious trouble.


	3. Mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, another chapter done.. Yay me!!! *fist pump*  
> I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did. Rambles and innuendos coming ;)  
> Leave your kudos and comments to let me know.  
> Happy reading!!! :D

It felt really close to what she imagined smugness felt like. Boisterously laughing at the face Stana made, Felicity promptly went on to forward her hand where her friend dropped a bill of notes, pouting the entire time.

“Aw, grumpy. You should know by now not to challenge me, Ms. Raymond,” Felicity said with the earlier smugness. Stana sighed at her cocky, (yes, she used the word cocky) smile. 

“Fine!” She got up from her chair and proceeded to drop a few casual dollars on the table to cover their bills. As soon as she saw Felicity’s protest, she gestured her quiet. “Nuh-uh. My treat, remember? Next one is yours.” 

Shaking her head at that with a smile, Felicity got up as well and taking her bag and phone, the two exited the pub out into the night. Ever since the two had realized that they were basically living in the same city, they had started this weekly ritual of sorts on every Friday night- to meet at a pub for a few drinks and talk about the week- unless someone cancelled due to another engagement, in which case it was simply rescheduled. Such prior engagements never came Felicity’s way and in the few years she had lived here, she had yet to cancel a tryst with her beloved beauty. 

Laughing at her own thoughts, she turned to Stana as they walked hand in hand towards the parking where Stana had stashed her sensible Civic and Felicity her whimsical Mini Cooper. Yes, her car was old and moody, but she had spirit, Felicity reminded herself with vigor.

“What on Earth is going in through that genius head of yours now, huh?” Stana inquired, rolling her eyes. “I can literally hear you frothing in your own mind.”

Slapping at arm she was holding, she shrugged. “Just thinking about my car.”

“Not the my-car-has-a-spirit-that’s-awesome debate, please!”

“You know me too well for my own sake. Remind me why we are friends again?”

“I’m going to ignore that question and assume it was a rhetorical one. I doubt anything you tell me now would surprise me at this point,” Stana laughed out.

Felicity hesitated for a second. A second too long perhaps. Stana turned to her, curiosity piqued. “What? Tell me.”

“Well,” Felicity began.

“Uh-oh! This will be interesting,” she mumbled, leaning against her car which they had reached. The parking was dimly lit and Stana’s car was parked right at the edge of the lot. As the only two there, it was super quiet and super creepy. Snapping her fingers right in front of her face, Stana brought Felicity’s attention back on her.

Swallowing, Felicity began, ready to get it all out in a rush. “Yeah, so you know how my boss’ boss’ stepson is alive and kicking? Right? Right. Yeah so I may or may not have encountered him yesterday in the lobby with his mother and his stepfather and a bodyguard that can give the Hulk a run for his money. I may or may not also have implied as to how my ovaries exploded at his hotness. In my defense, he does do the Tarzan routine really well, like wow. And I may or may not have freaked them all out by unleashing one of my equally epic and equally horrifying rambles on them. The only plus, well, I didn't get fired. Phew, that was a long story!”

By the end of that equally epic and equally horrifying ramble, to use her own words, Stana’s eyes were wide and jaw on the ground. Like not literally on the ground because that would be absolutely impossible and super weird. But like metaphorically. And she was rambling in her head. Great. Felicity waited for Stana’s reaction. She didn't have to wait long. After processing that information hurricane like a normal person (Felicity, not!) in a few blinks, Stana guffawed. Yup, not laughed, but guffawed, loud and unending right in the vacant lot. Felicity’s shoulders drooped as she waited for that to finish.  
Stana was turning an unusual shade of pink due to exertion in between her guffaws, but she managed to gasp out, “Oh, boy!” Gasp. “I’d have” gasp “loved to be a” gasp “fly on the wall.” After a few calming breaths, she looked at Felicity in admiration. “You told Oliver Queen, playboy extraordinaire, castaway billionaire, heir to the Queen empire- OLIVER QUEEN- that you thought he was super hot and rocking that body, that too in front of the man who writes your pay checks, also his stepfather, and the woman who is intimidating even on TV, also his mother?”

“Not making me feel any better here,” Felicity mumbled.

Stana laughed and hugged her warmly. “Only you, Fell. Only you.”

Getting into her car, she rolled down the window, “Well, at least you didn't get fired!”

Felicity poked her tongue out as Stana drove away, laughing and moved towards her own car, sighing and shaking her head. She had only taken a few steps when she stopped. She was getting used to this feeling now. The whirlpool in her tummy. It meant either of the two things, either Leather Guy was here, or the previously mentioned Tarzan. God help her if a third man caused her this. She would very, very likely stab herself in exasperation. Or maybe not. Destiny sucked.

Sighing, she turned around again and looked towards the darkened corner of the parking lot where it veered off into a very inconspicuous alley- the kind of alley where hooded vigilantes put arrows in criminals and left them like it was another Friday. It was Friday. Shaking off her thoughts, she squinted to see if she could make him out. She could. Barely. Taking a few steps forward, instinctively trusting him for some reason, she stopped at the mouth of the alley, a few feet from him. She could feel his Intense gaze upon her. Intense with a capital I like the last time. And like last time, she couldn't remove her own gaze even if she wanted to. Not that she did. 

They stood staring at each other, a few feet separating them, closest that she had ever been to a wanted man. She could make out the green leather that hugged his super muscular body, the bow and quiver strapped to his back, the hood and darkness concealing more than half of his face. The only thing she could see was a very hot, very muscular jaw with slight scruff and although she had never been into it, boy, was that hot! She would have fanned herself if she could.

“This is really weird,” she finally said. He tilted his head to a side in question. She rolled her eyes. “This.” Gesturing to the space between them, she elaborated. “We've been standing here for five minutes just staring at each other. And why are you even here? Are you following me? But why would you be? Unless you happened to be walking around? Wait, is that how you get around- do you walk? I really don’t think that is safe. I mean not to tell you how to do your vigilante-ing. If that’s even a word. Anyways, where was I?”

She inhaled a big breath by the end and waited for him to talk. He didn't. He just kept his head tilted like he was trying to figure her out, mouth tilted up slightly at the corners, not to mention what those incredibly soft looking lips were doing to her already turmoiled tummy. 

“Look,” Felicity explained, “I just talk a lot, which I’m sure you've noticed. I just wanted to clarify that I wasn't following you the other night. I mean I was seeking out something but then I sort of stumbled upon you. I swear I didn't mean to spy on you spying them, huh, a phrase I never thought I’d use.” 

A dimple appeared on his left cheek. He was plotting to kill her. She was sure of it. She was going to vaporize any second now. And he still hadn't said a word. “Are you mute?”

A short chuckle escaped him and he shook his head. She frowned. “So you just don’t want to talk to me. Well, that’s a pity since your mouth looks like you know how to use it.” 

His lips parted a little at that in surprise. She frowned again as she thought back to what she had said, before her eyes widened comically and she shook her head vigorously. “Oh no, no, no, no! By using your mouth, I did not mean to imply any other uses rather than for speaking. Not that I’m not saying you wouldn't know how to use your mouth like that, I mean you look like a guy who knows how to. But I didn't imply that I wanted you to do that. Not that I would mind.” She closed her eyes shut, utterly embarrassed. 

“And why am I still talking? Feel free to stop...”

The rest of her words were suddenly swallowed by soft, slightly chapped lips against her own- lips that she had been rambling about. The intensity of the connection she felt to him magnified ten-fold if that was possible. Her entire being became hyper aware of him, like it hadn't been before. She opened her eyes for a moment, and her gaze collided with intense blue before he brushed her mouth with his lips again and her eyes fluttered close of their own volition. She felt a gloved hand come up and hold her cheek while the other spanned her waist, pulling her closer into the warm cocoon of his body. He stopped moving his mouth, just keeping his lips pressed to hers, as if waiting for something, she didn't know what. Going with her instinct (since that had served her pretty well till now if being kissed senseless by a hot vigilante was any indication) she brought one hand to rest on his muscular chest and the other up to touch the scruff on his cheek, dragging her nails through it. A low growl emanated from his chest at the gesture, rumbling against her mouth, and so very sexy it turned her insides to mush. 

He suddenly took a step back, hands leaving her body, prying her own away from his, only the mouths connecting them and she held on to his lips for a moment longer. She was not crazy enough to want to end the best kiss of her life, vigilante or no vigilante. She felt him smile against her mouth at her antics before he nibbled her lower lip, eliciting a moan from her. Finally breaking their physical connection, he pecked her lips once, then twice before finally pulling back. She waited a moment longer to open her eyes, savoring the taste of him against her lips, her tender, swollen lips. And the kiss had been chaste. She shivered thinking what he could do to her if his chaste kisses tasted like this.

“You really do know how to use your mouth,” she mumbled, touching her lips.

He barked out a laugh, grinning, and leaned closer, till she could feel his hot breath on her ear, a shiver going down her spine, her stomach free falling worse than it ever had.  
“Get home safe,” he whispered and pecking her cheek one last time, left into the darkness of the alley, leaving her in a daze. As she walked to her car, she realized she had been kissed senseless (and felt more in one chaste kiss than she did going all the way with her ex) by her apparent destined mate, a man whose name she didn't even know. And she was grinning like a fool, not deterred in the slightest by what she didn't know for once.

Well, maybe destiny wasn't such a bad thing after all.


	4. Apples Are Hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS A LONG ONE!  
> Sorry, I couldn't update sooner. Real life, bleh. I wish we could all live in these fandoms- that would be so cool, right?  
> That aside, Thank you so much everyone! I am so thrilled by the response I've gotten to this story. You all, this fandom, are the sweetest cupcakes ever!!!  
> Well, this loosely follows Season 1 but I'm changing quite a lot of things, so bear with me and let me know what works and what doesn't.  
> Kudos and comments, guys and virtual kisses are super appreciated.  
> Happy reading!!! :)

She really had no idea what in the name of Google was she doing here. After getting called to Walter's office last night, her mind had been preoccupied with whatever he had wanted to entrust with her. Like his name, Walter was like steel and seeing him a little riled had riled her. He had summoned her to his office late last night while she had been working on a project and asked her in detail about all that she could do, hypothetically, to find out about some object if he gave it into her custody, and how discreetly. Which, she realized in retrospect, was his very British way of asking how many laws she could break "hacking" (which was a really ugly word, by the way) and not get caught. Now, whatever this mysterious object was had her on the edge with both anticipation, as she hated mysteries, and anxiety, as it had riled a man with Walter's Britishness. Yes, she was a sucker for the accent. All good villains in history had been British. Nobody could blame her. This was so not the point.

The point was that she had gotten a call early morning from Walter, summoning her this time, to his "humble" home before she headed to work. So, here she was, standing on the doorstep of the Queen Mansion, a structure that was straight out of some magazine, tall and magnificent and intimidating in its vastness. It reminded her of the castles in Scotland. Not that she had ever been there. She was really just surprised there wasn't any bridge or tower here to evade any unwanted visitors. But maybe, the army of guards through the driveway explained that one.

She was broken out of her thoughts as the huge wooden doors were opened by a kind-faced woman. "Yes, miss?" She asked in a foreign accent. Russian maybe.

"I am here to see Mr. Steele." 

"Ah, yes. You must be Ms. Smoak. Please come in." 

Felicity followed the woman into a beautiful foyer. At this point, huge was a default adjective. The stout but nice woman moved to the left, speaking. "Mr. Steele will be down in a moment. He asked me to escort you to the parlor. Make yourself comfortable, miss. If you need for anything, call for me. I am Raisa."

Felicity smiled as she sat down on the opulent couch. It was a beautiful room but surprisingly cozy and warm with the spilling sunlight from big windows that overlooked the lawn. As she sat there in wait, she contemplated on the other thing on her genius mind. Apart from the best kiss of her life with a stranger with a hero complex, the last three days of her life had been pretty much normal. She got hot just thinking about the kiss. But that was not what was bothering her. No, it had been the dreams she had had last night, more of a nightmare to be honest. She shivered. 

Felicity had never been a dreamer. When she slept, her mind, exhausted from working so much the entire day, blessedly blanked out and she slept like a log. She could literally count on fingers the number of times she had dreamed in her entire life. Yet, for the past two nights she had been having nightmares, that too so vivid that she could feel them down to her bones. The first night, she had been surrounded by water, flailing around to keep herself afloat in the middle of a storm, her lungs aching with just the need to breathe. And she had abruptly woken up in the midst of drowning. Last night, she had seen something completely bizarre. She had been on some sort of beach, but she could feel the stones cutting into her back where she lay and the sun burning her wet body. But that wasn't the weird part. No, the weird part had been the agonizing pain coming from her right shoulder where an arrow was embedded into her skin. Further down the beach, she could see some weird sort of half black, half orange mask with an arrow protruding from one eye. Whatever the kind of hell it had been, she had suddenly woken up again. She could not understand how her brain could come up with something so painful and violent when she was a rather serene person. It was disturbing on so many levels she couldn't even contemplate.

She was suddenly broken out of her musings when someone walked in. Not someone. Tommy Merlyn. 

He stopped on the threshold of the parlor, his eyes taking in her simple grey shirt and blue skirt, and gleaming. "Well, hello to you, you beautiful, Sexy creature of my naughty fantasies." He said while walking into the room, closing the distance between them.

Felicity rolled her eyes. He was laying it on so thick. "Yeah right, you'd be the creature of my fantasies if I fantasized about monkeys, which I don't, and oh my God that was such a rude thing to say. But in my defense you started with the hey-let's-flirt-with-the-random-nerdy-blonde-in-Walter's-parlor routine." 

She saw his eyes widen and then genuinely become amused. He laughed, shaking his head. "In my defense, that line usually works with all the random nerdy blonde's in Walter's parlor. But, you my dear, have stolen my heart." Holding his chest with exaggeration, he put his other hand out. "Allow me to introduce myself."

Felicity rolled her eyes again. She could see why women liked his charming self. "You are Tommy Merlyn."

He raised his eyebrows. "I forgot my handsome face has graced every woman's memory in Starling. Now I feel at a disadvantage." 

Felicity put her hand in his outstretched one. "Felicity Smoak."

Tommy grinned, squeezing her hand. "I like you Felicity. You've got spunk."

Before she could reply, the free fall was back, tying her stomach in knots. As if on cue, came another voice, crisp in its baritone, husky in its timbre. "Who's got spunk?" 

This man could be reading a coffee shop menu and in his voice, it would sound like poetry. 

Felicity turned to see the voice accompanied by the man, her hand still in Tommy's. Oliver Queen. He entered the parlor like he owned the place. He did. He had an apple in one hand and the other in his pocket. If she thought he rocked that body in a suit, it was nothing compared to his Henley stretching over that spectacular chest. She was hopeless. Mr. Hulk bodyguard also accompanied him, standing vigil at the door, his face blank of all expressions. Mr. Sexy-Voice stopped abruptly at the sight of Felicity, his eyes widening in surprise and something she couldn't name. His eyes traveled over her form before latching onto where Tommy still held her. Felicity watched in fascination the progression of emotions on his face- his jaw clenched so tight she would bet his teeth were grinding, then his eyes turned thunderous for a second before he made his face completely neutral. It all happened in the blink of an eye and she would have missed it had she not been paying attention. But she was paying attention. It was kind of hard not to. Oliver Queen literally commanded it as soon as he walked in a room and her tummy turned to mush. She really didn't understand her brain at times.

Tommy, probably unaware of his own best friend's turmoil that was so obvious to her, spoke on. "This delightful creature, Ollie. She put me down so honestly it was brutal. You should hear her speak. It's spunky, as I said."

She watched his eyes turn to her, his gaze heating. "I know she does."

Felicity remembered what she had said the last time they had met and suddenly flushed. Her face heated under his hawk-like gaze and she swallowed. She promised herself she would stay quiet today. All of a sudden, with panther-like grace to his movements, he came forward and her heart thudded so badly she was sure she would be having an aneurysm by the end of this encounter. That would be just like her fate. Falling at the feet of one very muscly, god of a man. He stepped right into her personal space, making her tilt her head way back to look at him. Boy, was he tall! 

He put his hand out to shake. She stared at the hand. Looked up. Stared at him. Blinked. He almost-smiled.

His voice considerably softened as he said, "Oliver Queen."

She removed her hand from Tommy's, who by now was watching this entire thing unfold with a lot of interest and amusement. She put her hand in his and felt a tremor run down her spine at the sensation of her soft hands being engulfed by his hard, calloused ones. Her apologies to cheesy Mills and Boon she thought exaggerated the sensation. They did not. She looked into the pools of deep blue eyes, drowning in them and then, because it was her mouth, it just went ahead and ruined the moment. "I know who you are. You're Mr. Queen. I wasn't referring to your father by the way, who is dead. I mean he drowned. But you didn't. Which means you can eat that apple and I can shut up. In 3, 2, 1." Brain-0; Mouth-1.

She was mortified. Lethally mortified. How the hell could she do this to herself! This was one of the rudest things she had ever said to anyone. When she was younger, she used to hide under her blanket with one thought when she was scared- if she couldn't see the monsters, they couldn't see her. Sticking with that, since it worked just fine for her till now, she pinched her eyes closed, promising herself she wouldn't open them again. After a moment, she felt the hand she was still holding squeeze hers softly. And she broke a promise to herself for the second time, just like that. Sighing, she opened her eyes slowly, looking at the hand like it was an alien, then up at the man and his face. 

He was smiling. Full-out, no holds barred smiling. And it did something to her. His smile should be weaponized and sold by the country. Or better, preserved in the Museum and unleashed on unsuspecting women who died due to their ovaries exploding. Oh boy, she loved to exaggerate but she wasn't now. She had never in her life been so in lust as she was now. Maybe his aura was some sort of sensual, proximity drug that made her want to jump his bones. But it was more than that. She just couldn't explain it. Point was, he had a lethal smile, and a lethal face, and a lethal body, and a lethal way it all effected her and yup, she was so dead. 

Tommy's voice interrupted her out of her musings. "I told you she's awesome, Ollie."

Felicity got a little annoyed and turned to him, frowning. "Hey, no weird third person thingy here, okay? 'She' is right here and has a very verbal mouth that can speak for itself, sometimes more than it should." 

Tommy raised his hands up, still grinning. "Whoa, wildcat. My apologies. I don't want to be on the bad side of your mouth. Maybe, the good side?" he said with a salacious grin.

Oliver's hand released hers and hit him upside the head. "Be nice," he warned in a friendly voice. 

Tommy rubbed his head. "I was just saying I wanted to be on the good side of her mouth! Is that a wrong thing to want?" Cue innocent eyes.

Felicity laughed, shaking her head. "You're incorrigible, mister. You just don't know when to give up, do you?"

"Nope," Tommy laughed, popping the P. "I am still hoping for a miracle."

"Yeah, won't be happening, buddy. My mouth is going to stay very far away from you. Your jaw isn't scruffy enough for me to drool." She abruptly turned to Oliver. "I didn't mean to imply that I drool over you. I just recently discovered that I have a thing for scruff and hard jaws. Not that yours isn't drool-worthy. It is kind of hot actually. And lord, please stop me. I don't want earth to swallow me twice in two minutes."

Tommy laughed boisterously, bending over his stomach and she stopped. Oliver was giving her that almost, soft smile but his gaze seemed a little heated. His eyes looked at her like he would have eaten her up had they been alone. She shivered, thanks to her overactive imagination which had a series of images on play in her head. She shivered and he noticed. Tilting his head, as though contemplating something, he brought up his hand, his gaze tight on hers, and took a slow bite of the apple. A little of the juice escaped the side of his lip and he chased it with his tongue, eyes on hers the entire time. Was the man trying to kill her? She was just barely stopping herself from fanning her over heated face and loosening her collar and basically jump his bones, and he just went on embarking on what really felt like foreplay of the highest level. She wished she was the fruit. Swearing to herself, she realized how badly she needed to get out of his proximity lest she do something drastic. 

As though he knew exactly how much she wanted to escape, he raised a brow in challenge. Oh no, he shouldn't have! He didn't know, or perhaps he did, that the one thing Felicity Smoak never backed down from was a challenge. That raised brow made her decision for her. She stared back at him, in determination, and slowly brought her tongue out to lick and taste her own strawberry flavored red lips. His eyes followed the movement and slammed back into her with unparalleled heat, his chest moving a little faster as his breath sped up. Taking it a step further and enjoying her effect on him like he did on her, she bit down on her lower lip and saw him lose that control. He took a solid step forward, his body heat engulfing her as his torso was literally touching her now, just as Tommy cleared his throat.

She had completely forgotten he was even there, and judging from Oliver's expression, so had he. 

Tommy cleared his throat again and came forward to shake Felicity's hand as she took a much needed step back from Oliver. 

"Well, Felicity, it was so great to meet you. I hope we meet again soon, although I have a feeling we will." He turned to Oliver with a pointed look. "Talk to you soon, buddy." Oliver nodded, returning his hug, but his eyes still on Felicity.

Just as Tommy was leaving, Raisa returned with Walter. "Ah, Ms. Smoak. I'm so sorry to keep you waiting but it couldn't be helped. If you'd follow me into the study?"

She nodded, gesturing for him to lead and turned to pick up her bag from the couch, only to hit a solid wall of hard muscle. "Oof!" 

Warm hands steadied her, holding her waist with something very close to tenderness. She realized that he had to reign a control over his own body around people as small as she was. He could literally crush her with his bare hands, he was that huge. But for the life of Felicity she couldn't understand why she felt protected rather than threatened. And her tummy was still free falling with somersaults. Felicity took her bag that he held out a moment later with a thanks and rushed after Walter, feeling his eyes following her the whole way. 

Pressing a hand to her thundering heart, she willed it to calm down. But she couldn't shake the feeling that had they been alone, he would have kissed her. She was certain of it. Especially after the apple foreplay. And she would have let him. In fact she would have kissed him back with relish. What did that say about her? Not three nights ago, she had kissed a stranger in green leather, and now she was ready to kiss Oliver Queen just because he looked at her like she was the apple? And what about her destined lover? Which one of the two was it? Would she literally have to kiss both frogs? Who were not frogs at all but hot sex gods that made her feel all fluttery inside?

She decided that she would call Mrs. Navarro tonight. For guidance. Because it was exactly like her destiny to make fun of her by handing her two hot men who induced her free fall juju thingy.

Following Walter inside, she realized she was completely ruined- she would never, ever, ever look at apples the same way again.


	5. Leather meets SpongeBob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!   
> I'm so so very sorry for the late update. My brother just got married so I was busy doing the wedding stuff the entire week. Pardon me. I really wanted to stick as close to the normal schedule as I could.  
> Anyhow, here is the next chapter. The capitals are basically what I wanted to italicize but didn't know how to do it. So, capitals. Yay, me.   
> I hope you enjoy this chapter because I loved writing it!  
> Also, the rating just bumped up to Mature. Also, little cursing. So, take note. Things are getting hot ;)  
> Kudos and comments, guys! Let me know what you think!!!  
> Happy reading :D

Felicity Smoak was munching on an apple of all things, God help her, while she stared blankly at her laptop screen, trying to understand what exactly she was looking at. Walter's mysterious notebook sat innocently beside her laptop, looking back at her like it was a lost, baby pup that had done no wrong. Traitor. She wished she could growl it into submission. Not that she could growl very well. She liked to think she could. It was more like a mewl in reality. Whatever. The point was that the notebook filled with names, written in super secret ink that was the stuff of government conspiracies was baffling her. Huh, maybe it was a government conspiracy. Except that theory then did not explain why the list of names belonged to rich, stuffed dudes (and dudettes; she did not discriminate on gender) that an effing vigilante was targeting. The vigilante who dressed in green, hot leather and was built like a personification of her fantasies and who knew kissing like she knew computers and she was getting off track. Again.

She had been going round and round about it in her head and she always ended up remembering their kiss. What a kiss. She took another bite of the apple. Apples went with Oliver Queen. Another guy who was walking sex on legs and had a mouth that could ravish her before she could blink. She had a very dirty mind. Sighing, She got up from her chair and rubbed her forehead to relieve the ache she could feel growing behind her eyes. 

After a little debate, she realized she was baffled. Yup. Baffled. Perfect word. So she categorized it in her head like she did every thing else. She was baffled about the following: 

1\. What the hell was Walter doing with a devious little notebook that held the names of one percenters that the vigilante was targeting?

2\. Why the hell had the said notebook, written in invisible ink, belonged to Moira Queen, a one percenter herself?

3\. Why was no Queen mentioned in the List (Yes, this warranted a capital L. It was established that her mind was weird.)? Did that mean they wrote it? 

4\. How the hell did the vigilante get the list? Did that mean he worked for the Queens? (She found it hard to believe that he worked for anyone. He was too... vigilant-y.)

5\. What in hell would she do if it was a Queen? 

Before she could pursue that train of thought, a sudden noise from the side alley below her bedroom window startled her. She lived on the edge of the Glades but there had never been a break in during all the time that she had lived here. Panicking, she picked up the first thing she saw, which happened to be a frying pan on the kitchen island, and channeled her inner Rapunzel. Slowly, cautiously, trying to make as little noise as possible (which was not happening, because, well, it was she) she inched forward towards the bedroom. And then her shoulders sagged. That sensation of falling from a great height was back, which meant her intruder happened to be one very hot bow-wielder. 

As though on cue, she saw him open her bedroom window and climb in. How on earth he fit his humongous body through that tiny space would remain a mystery to her. But while he climbed in, she folded her arms across her chest, frying pan in hand, and tilted a hip, admiring his parkouring skills and the play of muscles on his back and wow, his butt was really firm and looked delicious in those leather pants, and he turned and suddenly she was looking at something else that seemed firm, and her cheeks heated.

"See something you like?" 

She could hear the smirk even in his modulated voice. The modulated voice, which by the way, was really weird sounding. He was sexy and all but that voice was creepy. She could understand why he would use it to make people quake in their shoes, or heels, or whatever. Feeling his hooded gaze move over her, she suddenly realized she was in her MIT tee that was very thin and SpongeBob shorts that were VERY short. She mentally facepalmed. But seeing his reaction, she didn't think he minded it at all. 

Raising her eyebrows, since she never really could do that one eyebrow thing that people did so annoyingly well, she spoke. "Oh, I see a lot of things I like. Do you?"

In answer, he put his bow on her bed and tilted his head, just staring at her unnervingly. After a few moments, waiting for him to speak which he didn't do, she finally opened her mouth. "Is this like one of your interrogation techniques? Stare at the other person who is under-dressed in pajamas while you stand there erect in all your leather glory?" 

He choked on a chuckle. She blinked thrice before realizing what she said. Then, she actually face-palmed. "I did not actually mean it the way it sounded. What I meant was that you stand kind of stiff. Oh, frack! Not stiff, like STIFF, but you stand hard and proud. This is not sounding any better. Whatever. You get what I mean, I'm not even going down that road again. And this is why you were staring, wasn't it? To get me to make a lascivious innuendo after which I would bumble and you would just stand there being..." 

"Erect?" he supplied helpfully.

Felicity sighed. "You're a sneaky bastard. Now, stop grinning."

He grinned wider. Then he gestured to the forgotten pan in her hand. "Were you planning on using that on me?"

She inhaled deeply, then cocked a hip. "You have no idea for how long I could knock you out with this, do you, mister?"

He mirrored her actions, folding his hands across the wide expanse of his chest and leaned against the bed post, crossing one ankle over the other. "And you have no idea how easily I could take that from you, do you?"

"Cocky, sneaky bastard," she muttered under her breath and went back to the living room, putting the pan back on the island and redoing her ponytail. He followed after her, taking in her house. She loved her apartment. It was her own little world and that was reflected in the entire space that she inhabited. It was cozy, done in warm colors and hosted little quirky tidbits that screamed Felicity's personality. Her rather large bookshelf had, from cyber encyclopedias to cheesy romances and even a few comics. A large, fluffy couch dominated the space in front of the TV, beside which she had a table set up, that housed her laptop and, for now, the mysterious notebook. Which reminded her, she needed to ask him about that.

But she waited for him to finish his perusal. The glow from the lamp was softening his harsh look, removing the edges. His gaze returned to her and she fidgeted with her fingers in nervousness. Which was really weird because there wasn't any reason for her to be nervous. She had kissed the man, for Christ's sake. And she was Jewish! Weird brain. At least it kept her company. She shook her head. 

"So?"

He leaned against the wall, resuming his earlier position- ankles crossed, muscular arms folded, slight tilt to his lips. The only new part was the tapping of his left index finger over his right elbow. Why in the name of Google that minute tick turned her on she didn't know. But that slow tapping was effecting her. Boy, was it effecting her! Her belly clenched and she was surprised at her own reaction. She cleared her head. Or tried to. 

"Look, not to be blunt or anything, but what are you doing here?" she asked, looking at him over her spectacles sternly. "And I'm not even going to touch upon the whole how-did-you-find-where-I-live question because something tells me I will not be liking the answer to that at all."

He shrugged his muscular shoulders. And continued tapping. She swallowed. He didn't speak.

"Are you going to say something? Like why you're here. Not that I don't like having you," she paused. "Having you as in hosting you. Which I'm not doing very well. Would you like to drink something? Or eat?"

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

She sighed, the silence getting to her. "At least Oliver freaking Queen speaks," she muttered under her breath. But she wasn't quiet enough. She was his muscles tense as he tilted his head questioningly. "What?"

She flushed. This would be one awkward exchange. Telling one guy who made your tummy fall about the other guy who made your tummy fall. Not that she was cheating or whatever. It sure didn't feel like that. She squirmed under his scrutiny, the rant inside her bubbling to get out and she opened her mouth. It got out. "Nothing, just that I met Oliver Queen this morning. You know that guy who just got back. And he was nice. Well, nice isn't the word. I don't think he was nice. He was decidedly naughty. I mean, boy, he can make eating an apple look like an art form. Hot stuff. No, but what I muttered just now was that he spoke to me. Like actively participated in the conversation and not lean back against the wall, tapping his fingers and making me sweat. I mean I do think he would have kissed me had we been alone, like you and I are, right now, but we weren't. And I can't believe I'm telling you this. That I find you hot. And I find Oliver Queen hot." Her eyes widened. "Oh my god! Am I a slut and I've just discovered it? And would you quit tapping your finger!!!"

There was absolute silence in the room. She could probably have heard an ant dance. If ants danced, that is. Maybe they did. There was no substantial research but... He was suddenly crossing the space between them with long, purposeful strides and damn it, her belly was burning. She took a few steps back as he kept coming forward and found herself pressed against the wall, with him looming before her, his body enveloping hers without touching her at all. She could only make out his strong jaw and that scruff which made her want to taste him in the muted glow of the lamp but she could feel his heated stare travelling on her face. His torso was just millimeters away, yet she could feel the heat of his body. And she was all for feminism and all, but this control he had over every muscle of his body was awakening some primitive instincts in her that had been dormant her entire life. The woman in her was simply reacting to the man in him.

He brought his arms up next to her on the wall, caging her in but not trapping her. She felt oddly safe. And the feeling of free fall was rapidly transforming inside her- hot, molten lava was gathering exactly where the sensation was, searching for relief she knew only he could provide. He leaned forward slowly, his lips brushing her cheeks on the way towards the shell of her ear. She felt his hot breath on her lobe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Then he spoke, so softly it was only meant for her ears, in his real husky voice and not the falsely modulated one. The same voice which had whispered in her ears after their first kiss. 

"You're not a slut. What you are is remarkable. And mine. Just mine."

The softly whispered words caressed her already sensitized skin. Every nerve was on fire. Every cell in her body was super aware of the body that was just hovering above it. She felt his tongue touch the cold metal of her industrial piercing and her breathing labored. He hooked it in the ornament and tugged and her hips arched in response, her spine curving sharply. How the hell could one small piece of jewelry be that erogenous? How the hell could her body react like this to a small tug on her freaking EAR? How the hell could one man play her body like a maestro? And he wasn't even touching her anywhere else! She was all sensation, her body humming, set on fire by this man who was a stranger, yet wasn't. He gradually pulled back his face, trailing his lips in the ghost of a touch through her right cheek and stopped just a hair breadth away from her lips, that were already swelling with need. His lips did not touch hers. His lips did not move away. They just stayed. They just hovered. She could close the gap between them with just one big breath. But she continued to breath in slowly, sharing her breaths with him, sharing the air with him, without sharing touch. He continued to hover, taking in her air, but not closing that gap either, not with an inhale, not with a murmur. They existed in one space, so close that a mumbled word would snap the tension between their lips.

She waited for him to do something, anything. Waited and kept counting in her head to keep herself from exploding. The anticipation was killing her. It had her more on edge than she had been during the result announcement of the National Cyber Olympiad when she was a sophomore, and that is saying something. She was DYING with anticipation. Even then, they both just breathed the other in. He smelled incredible. Like wet dirt and leather and musk. All man. All natural. Just him.

It was thirty in her head when she saw his gaze flicker to her lips. Her own flickered to his- his slightly chapped, incredibly soft, full lips. His tongue peeked out to wet his own lips, and due to their proximity, they swiped over hers. A breathy moan escaped her before she could stop it. Her eyes closed of their own accord and she waited with baited breath. She felt a cool exhale on her mouth and then another swipe of his tongue on her lower lip, slow and deliberate. The need to feel his skin became painful. She gave up and put her arms under his hood, around his neck, pulling him into her body, cushioning his hard muscles with her soft roundness.

They collided together like two magnets in the midst of a storm. His hands moved over hers like he had just gotten the permission to explore his new bow. One hand gripped her ponytail firmly but not painfully, tilting her head at just the right angle to give him access to her mouth. The other hand was moving, travelling across her back, smoothing over her waist to the curve of her spine and pulling her forward. Whilst earlier they hadn't been touching at all, now, there was not any part of their bodies that wasn't touching the other. They were wrapped around each other like vines, trying to meld into one another, and boy, it was the most incredible thing she had ever felt. 

He took her lower lip between his own, biting and sucking and nibbling on it like it was water and he was starved. His tongue was mating hers, in heated battles and softer sighs. She didn't know who he was. But they fit. And, that was all that mattered for now- that they were kissing like two long lost lovers who just met after ages being apart. His mouth tasted like apples. Or was that her own taste? She didn't know anymore. She didn't even care. They were one taste now. 

She bit his lip and licked his tiny mole near the corner of his mouth and scratched his scruff and he growled and it turned her on more than she already was. Suddenly, he grabbed her thighs, lifted her in his arms like she weighed nothing (and it was so HOT!) and spun them around, putting her on the laptop table, her legs spreading automatically to accommodate his wide hips. She came up heaving for air and he latched onto the pulse on her neck, and bit. She moaned loud, her chest heaving, one hand pulling at the hair on his scalp beneath the hood, the other on the firm butt she had been admiring. His gloved hands were massaging her outer thighs, keeping her wide open for him, grinding his leather covered erection into her SpongeBob covered core, all the while sucking a massive hickey on to her neck. She couldn't bring herself to care, not if he kept doing that. Her tummy was on fire, a fire which was burning brighter and it would consume her whole. The free fall was falling free and her entire body was BURNING.

"Wow, you're really good at this," she muttered. Nobody could expect her to be quite, ever, not even when a hot guy was sucking on her neck. "You can probably give vampires some training on how to suck on pulse points and turn innocent women to goo." Pant. "If vampires, aah, exist that is." Moan. "And if you can manage to find one. I can't imagine Edward Cullen doing this." 

He paused in his feasting of her upper breasts, to where he had moved slowly. "Who's Edward Cullen?" he growled in a low voice. Yup. Growled. Like she wished she could. 

She grinned and righted her crooked spectacles. "The vampire from Twilight."

His lips pursed. "Twilight, again. What the hell is this Twilight?"

"You're so much better off not knowing."

Muttering something under his breath, which she couldn't hear (which was no ordinary feat because they were very, very close), he slowly disentangled their limbs, righting her tank top that had ridden up with a soft smile. She smiled back, feeling warm, the earlier blazing heat replaced. All of a sudden he froze, his eyes stuck to a spot beside her right thigh. She followed his gaze and saw what had captured his attention- the notebook with the List. Oh, frack. 

She looked up at him and swallowed, not understanding the tightening around his mouth and his suddenly coiled muscles, ready to spring. He took a step back, and she could feel him take a mental step back as well. "Well, I was going to ask you about this but then you distracted me with your clever, albeit silent mouth. Actually your tongue. Lips too. It was the combination actually. Very skilled mouth you have..." she trailed off as the corners of his lips twitched again. 

Before he could reply, a buzzing noise filled the room. He pulled a cell phone out from somewhere in his jacket (where the heck did that thing go? His jacket clung to his muscles!) and read whatever message had come. Looking up, he put it back and touched her cheek with his gloved hand tenderly. "I have to go. Something has come up. But we should talk later, okay?" he whispered.

She nodded, tilting her head into his palm that cupped her cheek. He leaned in and pecked her on the lips twice, before planting a soft kiss on her nose and turning away towards the direction of her bedroom. She followed after him. "I do have a front door, you know."

He chuckled and leaped out of the same window he had entered from. Watching his agile muscles in play, her body tingled. She went to stand over the window and watched him climb on a bike, disappearing outside the alley. It was a hot bike too. Hot vigilante on hot bike leaving hot kisses on her. She sighed. She really was hopeless. But well, nobody could blame her for dreamy eyes about the man who had turned her mind to mush while her skin still burned where his scruff had rasped it. That scruff! It was the stuff of fantasies. She would code that scruff in a software if she could. It was heavenly and perfect and raspy and tickly the perfect length and she had seen that before. 

Wait, what? 

Her brain suddenly woke up from its slumber caused by exploding ovaries. Her legs gave away and she collapsed on the bed as her mind, not that it was not short-circuited, started working rapidly and switching gears. Her previously perfectly organized bullets ran through her brain. That scruff she had rambled about in front of Tommy Merlyn this very morning, that slight mole beside the corner of his lip that she had tasted, those soft lips that had mated with hers. How could she not have put it together! She had seen those lips challenge her before; seen those lips lick apple juice and make her pulse rise. She had seen that body in jeans and Henley, not green leather, and still gushed about it. He body and her mind had reacted with the same vigor to him in an alley as it did to him in the parlor of the Queen Mansion. 

With blinding clarity, she knew. It all fit. Oliver freaking Queen was Starling City's freaking vigilante. Holy shit!

Oliver Queen. Vigilante. Bow and arrows. The List. Five years on a mysterious island. It all made sense.

But the only thing she felt suddenly was relief. Relief that, after all, her destiny wasn't that cruel. Which reminded her- she still had to call Mrs. Navarro.

But bless it, her soul wasn't two-timing anybody! 

That called for a pint of Mint chip.


	6. Okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So peeps, I've gone on a writing spree and my friend is texting me and threatening me bodily harm if I don't update this fic because despite of virtually living with me, she has no idea what's happening next (tbh, neither do I), so before she kills me before I can finish, here it is!!! Thanks so much for the amazing response to this story!!! Keep it coming- good, bad, ugly, whatever. Just keep it coming. You are the fodder to this story :)  
> Plus, Laurel fans, I'm not anti-Laurel but i just don't understand her. Moving forward, please keep in mind that Laurel is written from Felicity's POV.  
> Also, lightening struck me (and did not make me a meta-human *sigh*), so I'm writing another fic that I'll post after this one is done. :D  
> This one is writing itself now :D I hope you enjoy it!!!!  
> And remember, kudos and comments, guys!!!!  
> Happy reading!!! :D

She was suspended by ropes from the ceiling, her toes only brushing the ground. A man in a black uniform was asking her something but her mind was filtering out the noise, dulled by the ache in her shoulders that just won't STOP! Her wrists were numb from the pain, the wound in her chest from the pierced arrow not yet completely healed and throbbing. The extra bright light hurt her sensitive, sleep-deprived eyes. Her legs were hanging limp. Her legs. She looked down. They were too long. In fact, they weren't her legs at all. This wasn't her body. Whoever this was, it was a man. A man with a dirty shirt on and an aching body that was experiencing too much pain. Pain that was some reason she was being subjected to. She looked up. Another man, in an orange and black mask, like the one form her previous dream, entered with a sword. Uh-oh. It seemed like the poor captive was about to feel more pain, pain that she would feel too. How was it even possible to survive through something like that.

It was a dream. Her mind knew it was a dream. And since dreams were controlled by the brain, and she controlled her own Brain, she had had enough pain for one night, thank you very much. So she very deliberately turned her thoughts in another direction. And, well, it her Brain, which thrived in the gutter, except when it wasn't into codes. So, obviously Brain went down on a different track. It was a dream. No harm ever came from dreams. She relaxed.

Once she was successful in steering Brain away from that hellish nightmare, she gave it the reins and enjoyed. The setting had changed. She was in the parlor of the Queen Mansion, except she was alone. It was dark, completely black and she couldn't see anything clearly. Suddenly, two hands came around her waist- two very big, rough hands, followed by a mouth that nuzzled the side of her neck. Hmm. The mouth moved up, showering soft, little kisses on her skin till it reached her ear lobe. Then it bit. Teeth pulled at her lobe and suckled hard, and she felt it straight in her groin. She opened her eyes that had closed on a moan and looked straight. A shaft of light pierced from somewhere and fell upon a table that only had one thing on it- a brown apple. She blinked, confused. Brown apple? Since when were apples brown?

She stopped the mouth that was busy giving her a hickey the size of, well, a really big hickey and twined her fingers with the hands that was on her waist. Hands with callouses. Hands of hard work. Hands of sweat and blood. Hands that engulfed hers. Pulling on one hand, she approached the table, the entire room in darkness except for that one spotlight. That brown apple beckoned her mysteriously. She hated mysteries. At only a few feet away, she realized the apple wasn't brown, per se, but in fact, dipped in chocolate. It was an apple covered in sin. Oh my. Her body became hot, hotter actually. She picked it up with her free hand, and slowly brought it up, brushing it with her mouth, covering her lips with liquid chocolate. She stood in the light, and turned her head towards the darkness, in invitation. She didn't have to wait long. Lips brushed against hers softly, tasting the chocolate, before a tongue came forward and licked them boldly...

Suddenly, Felicity opened her eyes. She was alone, in her bedroom and her phone was ringing it's tune on the side table. She took a deep breath. Brain was really weird. Chocolate apples, huh? Her body was sweating and a little feverish.

"I can't believe I got horny from just that," she mumbled grumpily before squinting her eyes at the phone. She knew only one person called her in the wee hours of the morning, and her history was proof that if she picked up, she would most likely regret it by the next day. Stana.

She sighed. Then, she picked up.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yup, she was regretting it. Big time. Her idea of a fun Friday night was NOT a loud, brash costume party at a nightclub in town. It didn't matter if it was the best or the hottest one. It was just... ugh. She looked beside her at Stana, who was totally rocking it in her customized Catwoman outfit. It was black, tight, showed way too much cleavage to be deemed appropriate, and was just so Stana. Felicity shook her head. Her brunette best friend was literally jumping up and down with excitement, as she sipped her Martini. She turned to Felicity and gave her a once over. Felicity had been horrified when Stana had turned up on her doorstep in the evening with her outfit. She promised herself for the umpteenth time that she would never, ever, ever trust Stana for parties again.

Felicity was wearing a she-devil costume. Yay her. Note the sarcasm. Stana had the costume customized to custom fit her (alliteration, much). The red in the dress was fiery. It was strapless, backless and just too less overall, the hem just reaching mid-thigh. The back was held together only by one strap that ran from one shoulder blade to another. Her hair was mussed and styled to look like she had just rolled out of bed (and she could have done it herself without letting her crazy friend spend an hour on it). The only extra props were the red Devil's horns on her head and the small but cute pointed tail that protruded from just above her ass in the dress. She looked good.

"You look hot, Fell. I would totally do you if I swung that way," Stana shouted.

Felicity grinned. "I would totally do me, but we are too public for that."

Stana laughed so loud, Felicity was pretty sure the DJ with the weird hair could hear her. "Jeez, Sty, keep it down, okay?"

Stana sighed. "Stop with the awful nickname, will you? It's been years!"

Felicity laughed. "Why should I stop? You're still a pain in my ass."

Shaking her head, with an evil glint in her eyes that definitely did not bode well for her, she sipped her drink. Felicity narrowed her eyes, taking a sip from hers. They were in Verdant, the hottest new club in town that had just opened last week in the heart of the Glades. This costume party was for god-knows-what. But she had to admit, as far as parties went, this was a pretty good one. The music was great. The interior was industrial but classy and there weren't any shady lurking places for drug deals to go bad. She got good vibes from the place.

"Thank my lucky stars, if it isn't Felicity Smoak!"

She turned around at the familiar voice and saw a grinning Tommy Merlyn, dressed as an angel of all things, with wings and halo and everything, making his way towards them. She smiled back. He was so dramatic. She loved it. But what made her like him were his eyes- they were kind eyes, and that was a rare thing to find. No matter what the media said about him, he was a good man. She was absolutely sure of it. And that made her want to be his friend.

"Your stars are lucky. You got to see my naughty side." She winked.

His grin got broader. He turned to Stana, eyes lighting with curiosity. "And who is this gorgeous creature, oh little Devil?"

Stana giggled, extending her hand before Felicity could introduce them. "Stana Raymond. This little Devil's best friend. And you are Tommy Merlyn. I have my own PR firm so I know all about you. You on the other hand, should know two things about me. One, I don't do playboys. And two, I definitely don't do playboys. As long as you get that, we'll get along swimmingly. Okay?"

Felicity coughed a laugh. Tommy looked at her for a few seconds then turned back to Stana. "I think I'm a little in love with you."

He put a hand on his heart but before he could speak more, a brunette latched onto his free arm. She was dressed in a power suit, as something, Felicity didn't know what. Laurel Lance. Gorgeous Laurel Lance. Oliver Queen's once-upon-a-time only serious girlfriend. She beat back the green monster dancing in her head, and no she didn't mean the bow and arrow kind. She had no reason to be jealous, at least she didn't think so. Yet, there was something about Gorgeous Laurel that irked her. Her smile seemed too polite, very lawyer-like. Well, she was a lawyer. Still, irksome. Her gaze lingered on Felicity for an extra minute before shifting to Stana, then she dismissed them completely.

She spoke in a high-pitched voice, "Who are they, Tommy?"

Tommy's entire demeanor changed a little. It became a little more serious, nothing that a bystander would notice, but Felicity was a stickler for details. "This is Stana Raymond and Felicity Smoak."

"So?"

Felicity very clearly heard the missing 'is that supposed to mean something' in Gorgeous Laurel's voice. Her blood boiled a little. The woman was so bitter. Like, okay she got it, one woman to another. Her boyfriend screwed her over with her baby sister and the said sister died but the ex-boyfriend didn't and now he was alive and hotter than ever and a changed man definitely. One didn't need a degree to tell that Oliver Queen did not go through five years on hell unscathed. In the meantime, Gorgeous here had moved on with the best friend and now she was bitter, for what? She had so much to be happy about. She could be.

All of a sudden, she realized that her three companions were completely silent. Uh-oh. Her slightly panicked gaze swung to Stana, who was biting her lip to keep from laughing, then to Tommy, who looked as though he didn't know whether to join Stana in her amusement or be defensive, and lastly to Laurel, who was FUMING. Fuck. She had said all that aloud. It was confirmed by a very high, very indignant "Excuse me?" from the said woman.

Felicity swallowed. "I.."

Laurel left Tommy's arm and folded them across her chest. "You don't know me. You don't know what I've been through. So, shut the hell up."

Felicity felt slightly ashamed. "I know. And I'm sorry for phrasing it like that. I really just wanted to keep it in my head but..."

Interrupted again. "Meaning you wanted to say it?" Laurel challenged. Why did people go around doing that?

Stana mumbled a "this will be interesting" before exchanging a look with Tommy, who still looked torn between joining Stana or staying beside Laurel. Gorgeous turned on her. "And you, stay away from Tommy. I know girls like you see him, all the money and just throw yourself at him but don't. I will make you and your trashy friend miserable. So stop now. It's undignified."

Before Stana could even speak, Felicity's spine straightened and she tilted her chin up. Nobody got off insulting her Sty except her. They had looked out for each other in college and since college. Gorgeous Laurel needed to get her head straight.

"You know what's undignified, Laurel?" Felicity spoke in a deliberately light voice, her eyes icy. "What is undignified is judging people before you know them. I made that mistake based on my gut and I was going to apologize before you opened your mouth but you made me realize that my gut wasn't wrong after all. So, you had a shitty relationship, you had family issues, you had someone close to you die, but guess what? You are in the club with a billion other people on earth but they don't go around with their messed up lives stamped on their forehead. You are a lawyer, right? You should know. People make the best of what they have." She glanced at Tommy then back at her. "You still have family, still have a second chance. You're still alive, for Google's sake. So as much as you work on making this city better, work on making your life better."

Laurel was dumbfounded. Felicity could see the shock on her face. "Who the hell do you think you are, you little nobody? Don't get on my bad side. I'm warning you," she spluttered angrily.

Felicity hardened herself. "Warn away. But understand this. I'm someone you don't want on your bad side. I'm someone who will make the last few years look like a walk in the park if you ever insult me or my friend again. You think your life is hell? Think about the man you loathe who had to spend the last five years doing god-knows-what just to survive and see if he still deserves your hatred. I understand where you're coming from, Laurel, but that doesn't mean I will hesitate in making you miserable if ever threaten us, again. Okay?"

Her stomach rolled with emotions, falling away to her feet. He was here. She smiled a little but kept her eyes on Laurel, ignoring Tommy and Sty. Laurel stared back. If looks could kill, Felicity was pretty sure what her status would be. But this needed to be done. Despite of her petite frame and calm disposition, felicity could ruin someone's life with a simple keystroke. She did not delight in the power but she wielded it as her bow and arrow.

Laurel turned on her feet and marched away with angry steps. Tommy and Stana remained quiet as a new female voice spoke. "That was so badass! Who are you?"

The three heads turned in sync to see the two Queen siblings standing before them. Thea Queen was dressed as a fairy in a shimmer gown that fell to her feet. Her brother, on the other hand, was in a three piece suit that clung to his muscles like she had the previous night. She blushed furiously, while Tommy came forward. "This is Felicity Smoak, badassery personified, and that is her gorgeous friend, Stana Raymond."

Thea grinned, grabbing Felicity's hand in both of hers and jumping up and down. "So, you are Ollie's nerd, right? The one who was at our house the other day?"

Felicity's gaze swung to the man in question, as he growled a low "Thea!" then rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Well, well. This was interesting. She wondered what he told Thea. Tommy spoke again. "Yup. She is. I was there."

Thea looked at Tommy, and grumbled. "How come you are always there for the good stuff?" She put up a hand. "Don't answer that."

She continued towards Felicity. "You look hot, by the way. Not nerdy at all. And you're blonde. Ollie was always into brunettes. But I like you so I'm keeping you. Okay?" she wiggled her eyebrows at the word. Felicity giggled, then turned to the older sibling.

"Mr. Queen," she spoke, holding his gaze, but this time with the knowledge of his secret. She knew what he did at night. She knew who he kissed in his free time. She blushed again.

"Oliver," he corrected.

"Oliver," she said, softly, blushing more. His eyes heated at her heightened color. She could see him remembering her pressed against the wall, held just by his body. But he didn't know that she knew. This made her giggle. She saw the heat become replaced by amusement, then confusion cloud his eyes. She just shook her head. "Who are you dressed as, by the way?"

He tilted his head to a side. "Oliver Queen."

She shook her head again. "Ego, much? But you could have come as Tarzan. I would have appreciated that. I mean, not I like me, I as in my gender. Those muscles would have looked amazing in loins cloth. Did I just say loin? Oh crap! I did not mean to imply that I fantasize about you or your loins. In fact, they are a stranger to my brain, or were. Now that I've spoken I can't not think about them. Oh, fuck, my mouth!"

She heard two gasps and a throat choking. She clenched her eyes shut. "I meant that like crap, my mouth. I wasn't asking you to, you know, my mouth. Not that I'm anti-oral sex or whatever. I'm pretty sure I'd enjoy it. i haven't really tried that ever so I don't really know. But my point was that, again, you and you loins are very, very safe from me. Except from my mouth. When I attack them. Verbally, I mean. Fuck, this is just getting worse. Sty, please stop me."

She heard someone laughing and peeked to look with one eye. He was laughing. Oliver Queen was laughing, all-out, no-holds-barred, stomach clenched laughing. She blinked. She'd never heard him laugh. It was raw. Not sophisticated at all. But so HIM. She smiled at him while he wiped the corner of his eyes, grinning. All of a sudden, she realized how quiet her companions were. She looked around. Thea's and Tommy's jaws were dropped and eyes were wide. Their expression so in sync with each other was comical. Stana was grinning like the cat who got the cream.

Thea's voice drew her gaze back to her face. "I... what... Ollie! You laughed! Oh my God, I can't remember the last time you laughed!" Tears escaped her eyes and she suddenly attack hugged her brother. Felicity didn't know what to feel- happy that he laughed, or sad that he didn't have a lot of reasons to. Thea let go of her brother and turned to her. In her confusion, she didn't realize when she had an armful of the younger Queen. "Thank you," she whispered in Felicity's ear and drew back. "We are going to hang out more." She turned to Tommy. "You were right. She is something else." She turned to Stana. "We are going to get to know each other. I want all the dirty laundry on this one for future."

Whoa. Thea Queen was a whirlwind.

Thea and Stana linked arms. "I've been called worse."

Her mouth had done it again. Traitor. Stana winked at Felicity while talking to Thea, "Lots of dirty laundry on that devil." Double traitor.

She sighed, watching the two new besties walk away, commanding the gazes of men around them. She had created a monster. She sighed again.

She felt Tommy put a hand on her arm and draw her forward, slowly speaking. "So, I was thinking, how about I show you my new office upstairs?"

A strong hand claimed her waist from behind, and a growl came from Oliver. "Back off, Merlyn."

Her tummy flipped. The heat of the hand was branding her. The heat of his body behind her was too similar to that in her dream. His scent, his raw male scent was surrounding her. She felt his chest vibrate again as he spoke. "Leave. Now."

Tommy grinned. "Oh boy, this is going to be so good." With that, he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek and she felt Oliver move before she could blink. With one solid step, he put a hand on Tommy's shoulder, staring a hole into his eyes while Tommy kept on grinning. Oliver's jaw clenched. Then, he saw his grinning face and sighed in exasperation. "Go away, Tommy."

Tommy smirked. "I already saw the caveman, bro. She was right. Tarzan would have suited you. And I'm leaving before you seriously punch me in the face. You look like you're close." He turned to Felicity. "We'll continue, my dear, when this grouch isn't around to kill our buzz."

Sauntering away, he flew Felicity kisses. Oliver's hands fisted. She smiled at him. "Relax, he's just needling you."

Oliver sighed, his whole body relaxing and turned to her. "I know."

They stood staring into each other's eyes for seconds or hours, she didn't know, but it was neither heated nor awkward. It just was. She made out the three different shades of blue and grey in his eyes, mapping the small scars on his face that would be visible to someone standing close. Her eyes drifted to his mole beside his lips. The mole that gave away his secret. The mole she had kissed. Moving her eyes back to his, she saw his own perusal of her complete. She flushed again under his intense scrutiny. Her breathing fastened it pace. Her chest heaved and his eyes moved to watch the movement blatantly, without shame.

Stana's voice cut through the mood and his mask of politeness came up slightly. "You won't believe what I just saw on the snacks table."

Felicity raised her eyebrows. Thea took over. "Apples dipped in chocolate syrup! I mean, whose great idea was it..."

Her whole body froze. No. It was too much to be a coincidence. She shook her head. After her vivid dream last night that had left her more aroused than ever, except maybe the kiss against the wall, the presence of chocolate apples in a place with Oliver Queen was too much of a coincidence. She had never even heard of chocolate apples yet she dreamed about them?

Her gaze swung to his and it collided with a fierceness she had come to associate with him. He was watching her, almost as if waiting for her reaction.

"...it did since childhood." Thea's voice drifted back to her hazed mind. "Ollie has always loved chocolate apples."

Felicity searched his eyes, trying to understand this, understand what was happening to her. Her body already knew his presence, was it possible for her Brain too? She kept searching his eyes and suddenly it hit her. He knew. He knew about the chocolate apples. He was waiting to see if she did. She did. She saw the confusion in his eyes slowly change into a sort of stunned epiphany that she was pretty sure was mirroring hers.

"Jeez, get a room already you two." Thea fanned herself, while Stana for the bar. "All the sexual tension is going to evaporate me!" She marched away too.

Felicity looked back at Oliver. He knew. She knew. He knew that she knew. She knew that he knew. He also knew that she knew that he knew. These layers of knowledge were as stunning as they were arousing.

Point to him for trumping her. He silently challenged her again. Well, she had a trump card too.

She knew what she was going to do. She was going to show her card and leave him hanging.

So, that's what she did. She invaded his personal space, grabbed a bicep for support and felt his muscle tense under her hand, and went up on her toes, lining her lips with his right ear. His body tightened as she deliberately let her mouth whisper, her lips brushing his lobe and upper jaw, the sensation on slight scruff electrifying her nerves like live fire.

"I was wrong," she bit his lobe like he had in the dream, suckling it like he had in the dream, and felt his arousal like she had in the dream. She pressed her breasts against his arm as he whispered back, "About what?"

She let herself say it out loud before turning on her heel and walking away.

She said it, before leaving him strung. She whispered, lip to ear, her warm breath fanning him. "You should have come in green leather. Okay?"


	7. Kook It Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well.  
> Firstly, a BIG THANK YOU to everyone who has been so supportive of this story. You welcomed me with such open arms and I'm so so honored to be a part of such an amazing fandom!  
> Secondly, it took me a while to pen this down because of the other fic I'm working on as well. The Phoenix- http://archiveofourown.org/works/3556271/chapters/7831586  
> Check it out. It's Bratva :)  
> Thirdly, here's the chapter! Finally, a long due conversation happening and Oliver getting a little frantic *wink wink* :D  
> Leave me your thoughts, peeps. Kudos and comments, all the way.  
> Much love to you all. :D  
> Happy reading :)

She was a bloody coward, but she was in glorious denial. No, she told herself, the reason she was standing outside the door she hadn't seen in half a decade, in the scorching heat was really simple- she needed answers and there was only one person who could answer them. And since it had been too long her hometown had seen her face, she decided to grace it with her presence. She had not wanted to have this conversation on the phone. Facial expressions were important in dire situations like these. Yup. That was it. It had nothing, whatsoever, to do with the fact that she had erotically told one muscly archer she knew about his arrow fetish two nights ago. Huh, dirty Brain conjured up images. Now that she thought about it, his _arrow_ was really phallic. Oh boy. 

She cleared her throat. Nope. She wasn't running away from a conversation she knew would end up in them not talking but making out like hormonal teenagers. Not that she understood that term since she had not been a hormonal teenager. More like nerdy. And smart, crazy smart. Getting off track again. The point was, she hadn't hidden away for two nights, and she definitely hadn't decided to fly to Vegas on a whim just because a knock on her door had scared her silly. Not scared like frightened-for-her-life scared, just, you know, scared. She had not hacked the airport's server to get herself on the first flight out. Don't get her wrong. She would have _loved_ to go at it with him (cue drool) like bunnies- all hump and pound and wham and bam and phew! She fanned herself, getting hotter. Just thinking about it was making her explode, how the hell would she survive when he actually made her, you know, _explode_? 

That was one tasty question she was interrupted from answering when the door opened to reveal the one woman who had been another parent to her. Ms. Navarro looked exactly like she was the last time Felicity had seen her and that had been the day she had left for MIT. They had kept in touch (hello technology?) but she had never seen her because she had never returned to Vegas. Her mother and she had drifted apart a little over the years, both of them strong women with strong opinions on how they wished to live their lives, yet, despite all that, Felicity felt a rush of memories storming her over. Nostalgia hit hard and fast and unexpectedly. This little white house had not changed over the years. Literally feeling like she was back in time, she took in the barren lawn, the blue doors, the iron fence, the woman before her.

Ms. Navarro's black eyes lit up when she saw Felicity, recognizing her despite her dyed blonde hair and big glasses. Her mouth lifted up in a smile, her mocha skin flushing as she opened her arms wide.

"Come give me a proper greeting, _chica_."

Felicity laughed, her eyes tearing up a little at the nickname she hadn't heard in way too long as she stepped into the large woman's tight embrace. She felt like the five year old who had come crying to the neighbor's house after her father had left. She felt like the seven year old who had come rushing to show her first computer. She felt like the eleven year old who had been bullied for the first time for being smart. She felt like the thirteen year old who had finally stood up for herself. She felt like the fifteen year old who realized that boys did not like her and she would be alone. She felt like the sixteen year old leaving her home and saying goodbye. This embrace, this hug, had guided her, held her, just been with her. She sniffled.

"Don't cry, _chica_. You don't look so bad," Ms. Navarro teased. 

Felicity pulled back, chuckling, and wiped her eyes. "You don't look so bad yourself, old lady. What are you now, a hundred and seventy, Ms. N?"

"Close." Ms. N grinned, flashing her pearly whites, her beauty magnified. Felicity had always found her face fascinating. All different parts speaking for themselves.

Pulling her in and shutting the door, Felicity walked beside the tall woman, taking in the house again. The windows, the walls, the colors. "This place has not changed at all. That vase is exactly where I left it. And that painting!"

She walked to the kitchen, sitting on the island stool like she always had, and waited for Ms. N to sit. "The only thing I can't see is the crystal ball," Felicity said dramatically. Ms. N laughed, moving around the kitchen and Felicity knew she was making the best iced tea she had ever had. 

"Oh it is exactly where it was," Ms. N said conspiratorially. "Only now, it is invisible. Don't tell anyone."

Felicity mimed her lips shut as Ms. N placed a tall glass with amber liquid before her. "Just the way you like it."

Taking a sip, Felicity moaned, holding up her glass. "Ummm, this is so good. Oh, I missed your teas, Ms. N. I'd make you move towns just because of this." 

She was waiting for the banter to continue but it didn't. Ms. N's eyes were piercing her, staring straight into her in the eerie yet familiar way that was purely Ms. N, seeing more than was visible. Felicity squirmed on her seat, unlike before, because then she had nothing to hide. Not that she was hiding anything but... she squirmed. Ms. N's eyes cleared and she seated herself opposite her.

"There is something different about you, _chica_ ," Ms. N commented casually.

Felicity gulped. "Umm, my hair is blonde?" It came out like a question. Ms. N tilted her head to the side and it looked so much like the way Oliver did it, that she caved in. "I actually wanted to talk to you. Ask you some things, actually."

"Does this have anything to do with what you experience in your abdomen every time you are near _him_?"

Felicity's jaw dropped and eyes widened. She recovered quickly, though. "Who? And what feeling? There is no feeling, I mean there was but..." 

Ms. N just raised one fine eyebrow. Felicity sighed. "Oh, alright, alright! Do I even want to know how you know?"

"No. But tell me what you think I should know," Ms. N said, sipping the cool drink from her glass. Felicity took a sip from hers. "I can't explain it."

"You can. You have a penchant for words. I know that," Ms. N chuckled. 

Shaking her head, since she should have known better, considering who she was talking to, she began. "I was leaving my friend's place when I felt this really weird thing in my tummy. Like I was falling from top of a building and my stomach was dropping with me. But I wasn't and then I saw him but couldn't see him. Then I saw another guy, who by the way, is the hottest man I have ever seen. He should be illegal. Not the point. But he made me feel that too. The free fall feeling. It took me a while to realize they were the same. And I have never been a very sexual person but I _just can't stop thinking_ about doing adult stuff with him. And I don't understand it and it's annoying me that I can't understand it, or fight the urge to tear off his clothes or even talk to him without wanting the nearest flat surface."

Felicity huffed out a breath and inhaled. That was long. Ms. N just sipped her iced tea. She knew her well, knew there was more. SO, she was waiting it out. 

Felicity sighed again. "What's even more confusing is that I don't know if he even feels it. It seems like he's attracted to me too but to what extent? What will happen if I do give in and we tear each other's clothes? Will that urge go away? Will the feeling go away? Will it be a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am thing, because I don't know if I'm up for that. Plus, I found out a secret he has been keeping and he knows that I know and I don't want to talk to him. I'm scared."

Finally, saying it all out loud, admitting it, felt better. 

"He would have his picture under 'complicated' and 'dangerous' if dictionaries actually had pictures. They should actually. It would make understanding stuff so much easier for kids. Not that they would understand why his picture is there. It could be under 'hot' or 'scorching' or 'sexy' or 'apples'. God, he just can't stop with the apples. I didn't even like apples and now I have an apple fetish. He is making my ovaries explode and god, he isn't even here!"

Ms. N cleared her throat. Felicity slapped her forehead with her palms, groaning. "Ugh! What do I do?" 

Ms. N smiled. "What do you want to do?"

Felicity looked up, chin on her folded hands. "Honestly?"

Ms. N nodded. "Yes. Honestly."

"I want to bang him seven ways into Sunday, so bad that neither of us can even think of getting up," Felicity confessed.

"Then bang him into Sunday," Ms. N stated.

Felicity's eyes widened. "Are you serious? What about..."

Ms. N leaned forward, taking a hold of her folded hands with an earnest expression on her face. "Remember what I said to you before you left here?"

Felicity nodded, heart racing. 

"I have always believed that you have a destined lover. I believe this man is. Your purpose in each other's life goes beyond our human understanding of relationships. In the legends of my people, a woman only feels what you have described to me when she is with her destined mate."

Felicity leaned forward. "What if it is just an intense case of lust? I mean the man _is_ hot!"

Ms. N leaned back but still had a hold of her hands. "Tell me, _chica_ , have you been dreaming?"

She frowned. "Yes, as a matter of fact I have. It's always weird things, things I haven't seen before, even in a movie. It surprises me that..." Her voice trailed away at the satisfied look on Ms. N's face. Felicity's eyes widened, her heart thumping in her rib cage. No. No. No. Whatever Brain was coming up with was too far-fetched to be even possible! But Ms. N's eyes said otherwise.

"How is that even possible?" she whispered, scared out of her wits. Brain could not be housing a neighbor without her knowledge!

Ms. N shrugged again. "There are things we cannot explain. But what I can explain is that, yes, your mind and his have been linked. It is said that the first kiss links the subconscious minds; the first physical act of love links the conscious ones."

Felicity gripped her fingers. "Is that your sophisticated way of saying that if we, you know, do the deed, we could _read each other's fucking mind_?"

"Not read mind so much as read emotions. It is to develop a greater understanding between the two lovers, truly make them one."

Felicity slapped the island with her palm, getting angry. "Understanding, my ass! I am not sharing my attic space with anyone, destiny or not!"

Ms. N's sly smile just infuriated her more. "You won't be the only one."

That gave her pause. "Whoa!" Her eyes widened again. "Does that mean he is dreaming my dreams too? That he sees what I see in my dreams? That he feels the free-fucking-fall?!"

Ms. N stretched her arms so casually, as though this conversation was about the weather and not her soul screwing up on her. "Only he can answer that completely, but yes, legends say that the bond is felt by both."

Felicity saw red. "So, basically, him noticing me, being attracted to me is because _destiny_ is compelling him to and not out of his own free choice? Is that what this means?"

"Not exactly. His choice is involved to some extent. What he does about the bond is his choice. Destiny only had to make you two meet."

Felicity fumed, angered. She didn't really know why she was so angry, she just was. Ms. N looked sympathetic and changed the subject to her mother, how well she was doing, currently travelling on a waitress' tour of the hotel chain where she worked. They talked a lot, about this and that, about everything except the man Felicity's mind was preoccupied with. Evening came and she reluctantly got up to leave, as she had a flight to catch in a hour. Ms. N walked her out to the porch and hugged her again, tight and warm. It felt like deja-vu.

She looked deeply at her and said in her soft voice. "You destiny led you to him, _chica_. Trust it. She'll lead you further."

Felicity sighed then nodded, getting in her cab. It pulled away and Felicity looked back at the shrinking view, waving her goodbye again and again, feeling a little lost. She turned and stared out the windows at the once familiar city, it's lights as blinding and stark as they always had been, if not more. The noise of the city outside the cab was suddenly drowned by the chiming of her phone. She took it out and saw Stana's laughing picture staring up at her. She picked up.

"Well, guess who was just here asking me about your where-abouts?" Stana's excited voice chirped from the other end.

Felicity smiled despite herself. "Tom Cruise?"

Stana chuckled. "Haha. Cute. But close. Oliver Queen."

Her breath hitched. "Umm, why was he there?"

"He just said there was something urgent and you weren't picking up your phone." Stana paused. "And that got me wondering, what was so urgent, huh?"

Felicity could practically hear her grin across the line. "Can it, Sty. It's just technical stuff."

"Ooh, how _technical_ are we talking? Cause I could literally blame the two of you for global warming the way you just looked at each other at the party. And now stuff is technical."

Felicity blushed. "We weren't that obvious," she clapped a hand over her mouth just as Stana exclaimed, "Aha! I knew something was going on. And I want details."

"Later, okay, I'm a little busy right now."

"Sure, hon. But don't for a second think I'm letting you go off easy." Then she paused, her tone getting serious. "And just talk to him, Fell. He sounded really worried."

Felicity saw the cab pulling outside the terminal and sighed. "Okay. But I've got to go. Talk to you soon. Bye."

Without any preface, she disconnected, walking inside and getting her pass. Once she was done with all the formalities, she picked up her phone again, and was assaulted with the red glare of "SEVEN MISSED CALLS", all from the same unknown number. Hunch and the conversation with Stana told her it was his. Once she save the number under 'OLIVER QUEEN', she cleared her log and saw the icons for unread messages blip. Opening them, while walking towards her gate, she stumbled for a moment. FIVE UNREAD MESSAGES greeted her. All from OLIVER QUEEN.

Oliver Queen: _Just wanted to check in on you. We really have to talk._ \- Received 10.05 a.m.

She blinked. Oliver Queen had texted her. It felt surreal. And he wanted to talk. Exactly what she did not want to do.

Oliver Queen: _You are on leave. Where are you?_ \- Received 11.30 a.m. 

He went by her office? What? She stared at the message, disbelieving. He must be really desperate to talk to her. There was no other way he knew about the one-day leave. Moving on.

Oliver Queen: _You are not at your place. We have to talk. Where are you?_ \- Received 1.30 p.m.

What the hell? How the hell did he know where she lived, and what her number was? She suddenly remembered and face palmed. She was a Queen Consolidated employee and his name was Oliver Queen. Obvious that one. Although, she didn't know he had stalkery tendencies. Not that his creeped her out like that lacrosse player freshman year of college. His were just surprising. She did not feel violated and she was surprised that she didn't. Well, destiny and all. She wished she could poke her tongue out at however destiny was personified. It would give her a weird sense of satisfaction.

Oliver Queen: _Can you at least answer your damn phone?! I need to know you are alright!_ \- Received 4.45 p.m. 

She imagined him growling in that deep rumbly way of his when he typed that and it did funny things to her insides. She was at a freaking airport, for the love of all things tech! She needed to have a serious conversation with Brain. And how weird was she that she actually spoke of her own head in third person?

Oliver Queen: _WHERE ARE YOU?????_ \- Received 5.50 p.m.

Uh-oh. Shouty capitals were never good. She had been a coward and run. And he seemed determined to find her, come hell or anything. Oh boy. Holy hell. She was freaking out. She didn't know why. But her internal organs were freaking out too. She quickly stashed her phone inside, switching it off, and boarded her flight, shutting off her over active Brain for a while and catching some sleep, dreamless sleep, thank you very much. In almost a few hours, she was back in Starling. Forty minutes, some spilled juice on her top courtesy of a little boy at the baggage, who had been too cute to be mad at, and a cab ride later she was home sweet home. She paid the driver and walked up the steps, nodding to the guard at the front gate. Getting in the elevator, tired to her bones, she pondered upon her conversation with Ms. N, and how good it had felt just being with her. She really ought to keep in touch with her more. The doors opened.

She could feel her bed beckoning her, calling her to sink in its mattressy depth and be dead to the world for some time. Thinking about it, she went to her apartment door, opening it and putting her bag on the table beside the threshold. Her hand went to the lamp switch, turning it on (the same lone lamp that had been aglow during her, well, misconducts with green leather man), while she closed the door. She pulled her damp t-shirt over her head, away from her warm skin that she wanted to shower off. Clad only in her baby pink polka dotted bra, and jeans, she turned around, pulling her hair out of her ponytail and stopped dead in her tracks before jumping about a foot in the air, yelping in a manner that was sure to mortify her later. Yeah, well, later. Right now, she yelped. And then her stomach plummeted. Along with the rest of her organs. The free fall hit her with such force that her knees trembled. It hit her with such force that she felt destiny for chiding her for thinking even for a second that she could deny this. 

There, sitting on her couch like he owned it, was the man who had been hunting her. And he did look like a predator, waiting to feast upon his unsuspecting prey, which in this particular case, happened to be her. His muscle t-shirt, aptly named, clung to every nook and cranny of his torso, visible to her because of the way he was leaning back in the cushions, legs clad in jeans spread comfortably, one elbow on the back of the couch, the other hand draped over his knee. His posture screamed casual. But she knew better. She could feel the turmoil of emotions he was keeping hidden beneath his hard eyes and icy relaxation. She could feel the anger bubbling right beneath the surface along with the concern, and the relief. She could feel the fire underneath that icy demeanor.

His eyes roamed her half naked torso in a clinical manner, as though searching for any injuries, and coming back to her eyes when he didn't find any. The momentary relief in those blue, blue orbs evaporated. The anger came back. Lord, she could see in his eyes. He was pissed. No, scratch that, he was _furious_. She swallowed, standing at the other corner of the room in little light, while he just kept looking at her, jaw clenched, teeth grinding, eyes narrowed.

She saw him rub his thumb together with his forefinger, and a shiver traveled down her spine. Her arms erupted with goosebumps, due to the chill in the air, the chill in his gaze or the heat lying beneath that, she did not know. He barely opened his mouth, his teeth were gnashing so hard she was worried he would do damage, but his voice rasped out in his honeyed but hard tone, a tone that made her flinch with its iciness. He rasped, she gulped. His eyes traveled, her spine shivered.

He spoke, his voice hard in the silence stretched taut between them.

" _Where the fuck have you been?_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was that???? *bouncing on toes*  
> Leave me your thoughts- what worked or what didn't.
> 
> Also check out my other fic- The Phoenix. It's Bratva Oliver. Bratva Oliver is hot and sexy and an asshole. ;)  
> Check it out here : http://archiveofourown.org/works/3556271/chapters/7831586


	8. Rushed Bets, Angry Curses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE- I've revised this chapter after realizing that there had been a little too many 'bloody' and 'fucking' in the original, which I had failed to realize earlier since I just went on an impassioned spree and posted it without editing. So, this is reedited and I hope better to read since I didn't want to take away the essence of what the couple felt yet not make it too uncomfortable to read. I apologize to everyone who read the previous draft (I'm so disappointed with myself about that) and hope you stick with the story!
> 
> Hey, peeps. I'm back with another chapter. I was actually planning on writing it later but your super enthusiastic response forced me to bruise my fingers typing today *kidding* :D  
> Tell me what you thought about it. *wink wink*  
> Kudos and comments, as always. I really look forward to your feedback :D

Speechless. That's what she was and that was a first. She could _just not believe_ the _audacity_ of him! How dare he stalk her like a stalker the entire day, even go to her best friend for her where-abouts, then break-in her bloody house, _again_ , invade her privacy like it was his day job, then have the gall to _demand_ an explanation like she owed it him! Bloody barbarian! Oh, why couldn't her destiny have found someone a little more, well a little less him? He thought he had the market on anger. Well, she would show him _furious_!

She calmly turned her back on him, not giving a shit about what he thought or didn't. She did not work her ass off to be ordered around by a man who thought he had some power over her. Ass. She walked towards the kitchen, feeling his eyes spearing her back, glued to her half-naked body. Well, this was her house. She could walk around any way she damn well pleased and he would just have to bite his tongue and brood.

Switching on the light, she moved around the island to grab a glass from the shelves above the sink. Her antennas that were connected to him shot up. Yeah, they were getting some reception, as he got up. She had not turned back. She didn't have to. She felt the air molecules shift around the place to accommodate him. They very well could. She won't be accommodating him any time soon, in any manner whatsoever. She gave herself a nod. Yup. She would stand strong in the force of even the mere thought of him and his  _arrow_. The fact that she wasn't even amused at her own self was a testimony to her anger. She gulped down the water, washed her glass and replaced it. She was ignoring him and she could feel it chafing his awful ego the size of Atlantis. Well, that was prophetic. His ego would be sinking too.

Her body was humming with the force of her anger, not only at that but at... his hands gripped her upper arms and pushed her against the refrigerator, turning her around in the process. Her back collided with the cold metal, the bottles clanking inside with his rough force. How dare he manhandle her?!

She pushed against his rock hard chest, her expression ferocious. "Let me go, you asshole!" He closed in on her, pushing her further into the fridge but she stood her ground, her mouth stubborn.

He bent his knees to come to her level, eyes as ferocious as hers, and growled out. "I'm not going to ask you again. Where were you?"

A low guttural sound escaped from her throat, right before her fists pounded on his muscled chest, all her anger and frustration getting out on him. "Let go of me, you caveman."

His ridiculously thick arms still caged her in as she twisted and turned and tried to move her legs, trying even hitting him in the groin to escape but he didn't give her an inch. Bloody immovable concrete. She could have been made out of feathers for all the good it did. And that in turn made her even more pissed. She scratched his face with her nails, eliciting a threatening "stop" from him. That was encouraging. So, she rained her tiny fists on his chest, shoved and pushed, then reverted to scratching his neck. "You think you can come here and break all rules of my bloody privacy! As it is you well have gotten into my head. I'm not letting you get anywhere else. You can leave me alone. Let me go, you Neanderthal!"

With a rough, threatening noise deep from his chest, he suddenly let go of her arms, his hands moving to cup her ass like he owned them, as he spun them around to deposit her on the counter, spreading her legs wide and stepping in between them. She felt his rapidly growing erection nestled right against her core, the height of the counter giving him the perfect access to her pelvis.

Aghast, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Stop manhandling me, you jerk!"

Then just as she raised a hand to smack him again, he grabbed both her wrists in one hand and held them behind her back, pushing her bra-clad breasts against his chest. His long fingers manacled both her wrists and damn her if their size difference wasn't setting her body aflame. Her body was betraying her angry mind. But that wasn't completely true. Just as he was getting obviously aroused by this physical display of anger, so was she. She couldn't believe herself. She was so angry and so turned on! Tilting her chin back in defiance, she dared him to open his mouth. He did.

"You little spitfire," he ground out, teeth clenched. "You push your body against me like _this_ ," he flexed his hips to demonstrate, "leave me with a fucking hard-on in a party after _whispering_ in my ear that you know my little green secret. Then you just  _disappear_. And I spend my entire day tearing this city apart looking for you instead of actually doing my work because I was too fucking out of my mind to focus."

Felicity's eyes widened at his impassioned words, her mouth trembling with energy. Her arms were starting to ache due to the firm hold and the weird position he had them in. He pushed his erection right into her core again, making her throb almost painfully. She suddenly wondered if sexual tension ever caused spontaneous combustion because she sure felt her body rising up in an inferno.

"I..." she began but he wasn't done. "Shush. This time you will listen. You ignore me the entire day and my life has been fucked up enough for me to imagine all the reasons for you doing that. But no, you're fine. You waltz in here and ignore me, _again_. So, tell me, _Felicity_ ," his lips wrapped around her name, the reverence so evident despite the sarcasm, "why shouldn't I manhandle you? Or invade your privacy?" His jaw clenched. "Maybe, I am a caveman. Because I sure as fuck want to throw you over my shoulder, drop you on the bed and fuck the answer of where you were out of your lush, little mouth. Capiche?" The sarcasm in his tone cut through the air.

Her blood boiled. "I don't owe you any answers. I told you what I knew and I left. You didn't have to do anything."

"Felicity," his free hand grasped her chin roughly. "Stop pushing me!" He ran a calloused thumb over her lips, her body trembling slightly at the hot look in his eyes. She took the thumb in her mouth and bit. Hard. He cursed again, hand going to grip her hair and tilting her head back. She pushed her breasts further into his chest, writhing against him, letting him feel her swollen nubs. Grinding herself on his hardness, she licked her lips, biting them, inviting him to do the same, but pulling back before he could swoop in. She was giving as good as she got.

With a hoarse growl, he let go of her hands, and gripped her hips with both his palms, rotating his hips like he would had they been naked. Naked. Hmm. That seemed like a great idea. With the anger still buzzing between them, she grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it of him, just as he flicked her bra open with _two_  fingers. _Seriously?_ She needed to learn that. A great number of bras had been sacrificed on the alter of her fingers. Her fingers, that were currently roaming the glorious, perfect, give-Michaelangelo's-David-a-run-for-his-money perfect torso. 

Had she ever been into poetry, she would have written a sonnet about it. She let her gaze roam around his upper body, not even minding that he was doing the same to hers. The nooks and crannies his body had were all sharp angles and cut muscles. She felt his abs with her fingers, running them over to his back, where the skin was grotesquely raised by what felt like burns. His beautiful, beautiful body was marred with scars littered all over, some small, some big, but all permanently inked on his skin, like the star shaped tattoo above his right pec. 

The said pec tightened. He was holding his body stiff, realizing what she was looking at, and he seemed, umm, conscious. Not a word she would ever associate with him. He seemed conscious of her reaction to his scars.

"You are ridiculous," escaped her angry mouth before she could stop it. "I mean your body should be totally illegal!"

His angry stare burned into hers. "Are you serious?"

"Damn right, I am! Damn embodiment of strength and survival and perfection and pigheadedness."

"Are you insulting me or complementing me?"

"I can't believe I have a scar fetish! What do you think?" she bit out.

In answer, he brought up his hand and cupped one naked breast in his rough palm, twisting her nipple, the ache echoing straight in her core. The breath whooshed out of her lips. "I'm still bloody mad at you."

"So the fuck am I," he growled again, and attacked her mouth. This was not a fine kiss. It was all teeth and tongue and bites and moans, but damn, did it spike her temperature.

"I want you telling me honestly where you were," he muttered against her mouth.

"And why would I do that?" she panted, her breath getting out of her control. She had never felt this kind of an ache, an absolute hunger in her groin, much less felt like she was going to explode just from his kiss and his hands on her breasts and his hips pounding hers deliciously through the layers of clothing.

"Because you'll owe it to me after I make you come," he spoke, moving down her chin to her neck. 

She tilted her head back, giving him complete access. Somewhere through her hazed mind, she realized that if she took the bet, she would have to tell him about the destiny thingy. She would tell him eventually, just not tonight. Tonight, she was mad. So, she notched the bet up a level. "Only if you do that without going below my waist."

He stopped his assault on her neck (where she was absolutely sure she had three hickeys by now), and pulled his head back slightly, confused. 

"Meaning," she explained with a vindictive twinkle in her eyes, knowing this was impossible since she knew her eroticism better than he did, "your magic fingers or magic mouth or magic penis doesn't go anywhere near my vagina at all. Our jeans don't come off, at all. You think you can do that, Mr. Queen?"

His eyes narrowed at her smug look, then he smirked slightly, his eyes glinting with the challenge, and her smugness vanished. Uh-oh. "Yes, Ms. Smoak. I'll have you come without going anywhere but here," he said pointing to her breasts. He held her gaze captive as he laid her back on the counter. The cool granite against her heated skin pebbled her nipples harder. Eyes still on hers, he leaned over her, supporting his weight by his huge arms, and lowered his mouth to take one peak inside. She had thought he would go gentle, like she had always thought men did, but he pulled and pulled hard upon her breast. Her hips lifted up on their own, the hunger inside her growing monumentally. 

He removed one hand from the counter and supported himself only on one, the other going to her other breast, lavishing it with attention. Panting and moaning and writhing on the counter, she felt wanton, her breath rising faster and faster as he licked and sucked and laved one breast, while pulling and massaging the other. The dual sensation was accumulating right south, dampening her jeans now, her desire so white hot she felt off-kilter. This was something else. This experience was something else. Her own sexuality had always been good but this was beyond that. It almost seemed like her desire had been doubled, like she was feeling her own desire mingled with his. 

_The first act of love connects the conscious minds... feel the emotions of the other._

Her eyes shot open. She was feeling his desire. This was their first act of love. This was something else because both their desires had been doubly magnified. It felt amazing!!!

His face was suddenly right above hers. She tangled her hands in his short hair and pulled him down, turned on like nothing before and hating herself for making that bet. They could have been going at it like jack-rabbits by now. Damn the anger. His tongue tangled with hers, mating their mouths, and his hands pulled and rubbed her breasts, his elbows holding him up. 

The mewling noises from her throat would have been embarrassing had she not been so aroused. She was sure her breasts would be too sore for a bra tomorrow. Not that she regretted it. The man really did have magic hands. He kept up the push and pull, like he was doing an exercise while assaulting her mouth in sync, and slowly, the fire started traveling in her veins, going south and south and south.

Lick. Nip. Push. Pull. He went on and on and suddenly, she felt that feeling in her gut, the falling feel, change. A sudden pain in her gut made her yelp, just as he flinched, and they both pulled back their heads to look at their abdomens. It looked fine. Actually, it looked bloody amazing pressed together, but physically unharmed. Yet, she felt it. Like something had knotted inside her, like a thread, connecting their navels, their bodies, together. She looked up at him, the desire returning with a vengeance and pulled him into her again, the need to get closer and closer to him getting ahead of her. He moved back to her neck, nibbling and sucking and biting, his hands still marauding her nipples.

The ball of need coiled inside her, tighter and tighter and tighter and suddenly, the sensation growing exploded, throwing her into the most intense orgasm of her life. She half-moaned, shaking her head repeatedly, waiting for it to stop. It didn't. She panted and bit his shoulder, digging her fingers in his back. "Frack. Frack. Frack. FRACK."

Gradually, it died down, her entire body trembling in the aftermath, her mind slowly becoming conscious of what had just happened.

Oliver had given her the most intense orgasm of her life without even touching her below her waist and just before she had come, something had happened. Something had hooked into her, and him as well, by his reaction, and they were now (if Ms, Navarro was right, which she had been scarily till now) connected. More than they had been before.

He looked down at her, eyes stunned yet triumphant. "Do you always come like that?"

She blushed. Her body was weird. It was blushing after the almost-sex. "That was a first. Not my first orgasm. Just the first time it was, you know, it was like that. Thank you, for your generosity. You're still, you know, hard." She had to hand it to destiny. It definitely chose a _really_ skilled guy and boy, was she glad now!

A slow smile spread on his face. "I'll be fine. And you're welcome anytime." He got up from over her, and stretched his shoulders a bit, wincing slightly at the bite she had left along with scratch marks. His eyes then zeroed in on her neck, which she was pretty sure was red and hickeyed up, heating a little. "Tit for tat it seems. Speaking of, courtesy of that amazing orgasm I gave you, you finally give me my answer."

She bit her lip, uncertain of what to say. How did you tell the guy who just made every cell in your body bloody explode that he was your soulmate? There was no greeting card for that one.  

Well, at least she was all sexed up and satisfied. Poor guy still had a sizable bulge in his jeans.  

She sat on the counter and he pushed her hair away from her face. "Tell me where you were."

Even the remnants of anger drained out of her. "I was in Vegas."

"You weren't even in the city!" Then his brow furrowed, "Why?"

She gulped. And opened her mouth.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me your thoughts. 
> 
> Also check out my other fic- The Phoenix. It's Bratva Oliver. Need I say more? ;)  
> Check it out here : http://archiveofourown.org/works/3556271/chapters/7831586


	9. Queen Poles of Magnet Oliver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Okay, so I need to mention a few things here: 
> 
> 1\. Posting last chapter was a disaster because I didn't review it and I'm so sorry to all those who felt it ruined the story for them. I'll be sure to edit my chapters _thoroughly_ now before uploading them, that's certain. Also, the feminist in me completely rebelled against Oliver's rough treatment of Felicity but it was necessary to the plot, sadly. *sigh*  
>  Anyways, I thank all of you who pointed out the issues in the previous chapter and grateful to all those who appreciated it! THANK YOU. Hugs to you all for still sticking with me.
> 
> 2\. A special thanks to everyone for such an amazing response to this story in such a short amount of time. THANK YOU! ^_^
> 
> 3\. Also, BellaPaige88 advised me to use italics for flashbacks, and despite the mild (okay, not so mild) OCD I have about fonts, I decided to do that since she was right. Thank you, dear, for the advise and the absolutely amazing comments :D
> 
> So, here's the next chapter. Again, leave me your thoughts- good or bad. Enjoy!!!  
> Happy reading :D

 

Felicity massaged her forehead, the ache in her head growing stronger by the minute. The computer screen in front of her was blaring with codes that, for the first time in her life, seemed strangers to her. It had been a week. It had been a week from hell, and she didn't even believe in hell so that was saying something. She had listed out the reasons for that in her head, like she always did.

  1. Walter had been abducted on Day 1 on the Week from Hell (as she'd named it) and then Moira Queen had walked in regally, with her perfect, immovable hair and taken over the reins as smoothly as Felicity typed on a keyboard.
  2. The Evil Notebook was burning a hole in her bag. She'd started carrying it since Walter's disappearance, her paranoia driving her out of her mind. She was absolutely certain one had something to do with the other. 
  3. Also, the woman now leading this company was the same woman who, if Walter's suspicions were correct, had been the original owner of the Evil Notebook. That was troublesome on a level entirely of its own.
  4. Muscles she didn't know she even had had been aching since the night of her sexual ravishment. It hurt slightly, but that was not what was bothering her the most. No, it was the vanishing act Oliver had pulled afterwards. Had she not been certain he was human, she would have said he had Disapparated right out of her house. And the fact that she used a Harry Potter reference in her own head made her realize it had been too long since a Potter marathon. She'd do it tonight. 
  5. The Vigilante had been very, very active on the streets this past week, which was a slight diversion from his usual list of targets. Not that she was complaining but she was really confused.
  6. And lastly, Oliver had vanished (Disapparated, she was totally sticking to that) and she kind of got it. What she did not get, however, was the absolute silence from him. She had been out of town for own day and he had hit the roof, and now he had not contacted her _at all_ for a week? She was having trouble reconciling the two facts. Well, at least she had gotten an amazing orgasm out of the deal.



Shaking her head at her wayward thoughts, she tried to concentrate on the screen in front of her but her mind drifted.

 

                                                                           ------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_She opened her mouth to speak just as Oliver's eyes went to her mouth. But this time, the color drained from his face, giving her pause. He staggered back a few steps, his eyes roaming her naked torso, widening in absolute horror. She looked down at herself, to see what had him so upset, and gasped. Her body was stained in angry red splotches, her nipples looking tender and raw, small teeth marks littering her chest. From the way her mouth felt, she was sure it looked molested as well. Huh. It was weird she didn't even feel the pain so much. Well, she obviously felt it. But it didn't hurt._

_Looking back at Oliver, she saw him recede one more step, the pained look in his eyes stunning her._

_"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his index and thumb rubbing furiously together. Gone was the cocky caveman who had broken into her house. This man looked horrified, devastated. Self-hatred shone in his expression. A sudden need to comfort him overcame her. She picked up a throw from the comforter near the stool, wrapping it around herself and covering the marks his mouth had left from his bitter eyes. She took a step towards him, her hand raised to offer support but he backed up, shaking his head at her._

_"Oliver," she spoke softly, the anger that had been coursing through her veins not an hour ago put on the back-burner._

_His eyes fluttered close as though savoring his name from her mouth, and he whispered without looking up at her. "I shouldn't have done that. You didn't deserve that. Nobody does."_

_He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Jeez, I thought I wasn't that guy anymore. I was trying to be better. But I can't be. I'm always going to be an asshole when it comes to women. Damn it!"_

_"Oliver," she called him firmly. He looked up, so repentant that her heart went out to him. "I didn't want us to be like this," he murmured. "I didn't want to use you like this."_

_"Oliver, listen to me," Felicity spoke urgently, feeling him slipping away from her into his own mind. "The only thing I'm mad about tonight is you invading my privacy. We need to talk about it and draw lines that you and I will respect. Whatever happened otherwise was, well not exactly fine, since I would have called 911 had you been anyone else, but very understandable. You were angry. I was angry. And we got it out. Maybe, you could have been a little more gentle, not that I mind the rough you, at all, because well, orgasm. But you don't have to apologize about anything other than what I said."_

_He started shaking his head before she had even finished. "You don't get it, Felicity. This intensity, especially from a guy like me, is bad news. For anyone. You were right to demand I stay away from you. So, that's what I'm going to do. I almost raped you, damn it!"_

_"No, you didn't! I was as willing as you were," she protested._

_"I'm so sorry, but you should stay away from me." His voice dropped a few decibels. "I really wanted this between us, you know. But I'll destroy you. The proof of that is etched on your skin. I don't know what I'll do to you in my own madness and I can't take that chance. I'm sorry, Felicity."_

_"Oliver, stop!"_

_But he turned on his heel, picking up his t-shirt and walked right out the door before she could count to five. Boy, that man moved fast!_

_She sank down on the chair, clenching the throw together in her tiny fist, staring at the closed door. Like a whirlwind, he had come, ravished her on her own kitchen counter, and left with guilt the size of Antarctica. She sighed. She needed to clean the kitchen now._

 

                                                                              ----------------------------------------------------------------

 

"Hey, Smoaky!"

She was broken out of her trance by the chirpy voice that just sounded too happy on her miserable day of the week. Thea Queen swept in her little office with a slight pep in her step, grinning. How did she always look like she stepped right out of a magazine? She should be illegal too. Illegal Queens. Her brain needed to reboot.

"You call me Smoaky one more time and I'll find out every dirty, little thing you've ever done and put it online for the world to see," Felicity tried her stern-voice tiredly.

"Nothing no one's not seen before," Thea took a seat, crossing her legs. Legs that belonged to a supermodel and not a teenager. World was really an unfair place. "And definitely not worse than the car I totalled under the influence of Vertigo."

Felicity did not have a quip for that one. "So, what can I do for you, Thea?"

Thea gave a sly grin, pointing to her neck. "Well, you can begin by telling me if my brother has anything to do with the scarf you're wearing on this really warm day."

Felicity burst out laughing, amused by the bluntness in the younger girl. "And if I said yes?"

"I would say that's too much information and don't tell me any more details. That's a line of gross I just can't bring myself to cross, like ever," she replied, waving a hand.

Pushing her specs up her nose, Felicity raised her eyebrows and waited for her to get the motive for being here out. She didn't have to wait long. "Okay, Felicity, I'll be honest. Are you the reason my brother has reverted back to his immediate post-island mode of long stares and blank looks? Because there had been a lot of improvement but the past week has been from hell, especially with Walter gone."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Felicity muttered under her breath.

Rising up with too much grace in her long limbs, (she probably had more grace in her pinkie than Felicity possessed in her entire body), Thea spoke, "So, fix whatever it is you two have going on because I like hearing his laugh. I didn't hear it for too long so now I'm going to snatch up every chance I can get and the only person even close to get him to do that is you. I don't even mind if he doesn't spend all his time at home, if he's happy being with you. But get him to smile again, please."

Her earnest eyes conveyed her love to Felicity better than anything else could have. It touched Felicity somewhere deep. She nodded. "I'll try to talk to him."

Thea smiled, truly, and it was beautiful. Then the wicked gleam was back in her eyes, reminding her so much of Oliver's. "He breaks your heart, you tell me and I'll smack him for you. But, remember, I'll extend you the same treatment."

Felicity laughed. "We aren't dating Thea. He is just a friend." Who gives the most intense orgasms. She left out that part though, figuring his baby sister didn't need to be traumatized.

"Whatever you say, Smoaky." 

With a wink, she left the office, leaving Felicity shaking her head with mock-annoyance, with her own thoughts, thoughts that drifted again.

 

                                                         -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 _Her breath hitched. She was kneeling on the ground, deep inside a dark forest, the grime and dirt all over her body, the stones cutting her knees. Her hands were tied behind her back, every muscle in her body hurting and she was just so_ tired _. She could feel the gnawing need to just rest for some time, but knew she couldn't. She looked down at the blood on her thighs, but they were masculine legs and suddenly she knew she was with him again. Their minds were so attuned to each other now, she was seeing his dream. Again. Being his companion in this horrific nightmare. Again._

_She saw a beautiful Asian girl, lying dead on the forest floor, a lot of people surrounding her but all the faces hazy. Slowly, she saw the dead corpse turn into herself. It felt weird, like an out of body experience, watching herself through someone else's eyes, that too dead and bleeding. His mind was getting more and more frantic by the minute, trying to free himself from the ropes that bound him to get to her body, which was bleeding profusely with bite marks all over her. She suddenly understood the cause of this nightmare. His guilt was causing his mind to blow things out of proportion. She would not let him do this to himself._

_So, just like she had done the last time, confident that she could change his dream with her own mind, to dull his pain, she focused on the first thing she could think of. Her kitchen counter. Except she wasn't half draped over it this time, but sitting on her stool with her laptop, working on something as Oliver roamed about the kitchen, shirtless and barefoot, making coffee. The domesticity of the image made her happy._

_His mind went silent, and she assumed he was sleeping peacefully now._

_Her own tired mind make her wake up. She looked at the time and realized it must have been a late night for him. Smiling tiredly to herself, she started getting ready for the day._

                                                       

                                                         ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

She remembered the dreams of almost every night the past week. And every night, she switched the dream to something happier and let him sleep. But it was taxing. Since her own mind was not fully resting, she was sleep-deprived and tired and she didn't know how long she could continue like that. Every night that she assumed he slept, since the Vigilante went hopping around the city at night, she had never seen him have a good dream. A part of her was glad to not let him go through this hell alone, another part horrified at the evil he had survived.

But it was pride that dominated her emotions. Pride at his strength and will and determination. Pride that this beautiful, haunted, damaged man was all hers. Even if he was the President of the Broody Billionaires Club. Also the President of the Club for Mule-headed, Miserable Manpain. Also the Stupidly-Fixated-On-Avoiding-Their-Soulmates Club. Well, in his defense, he really didn't know about the last thing. Which she should be telling him. But wasn't ignorance bliss? Not that she would associate bliss with him. Unless it was her own. Yeah, he was really good at keeping her blissful. 

Gods of technology, her bruises hadn't even healed completely and she was ranting in her own head about his sexual prowess! Prowess. That sounded like a royal title. Welcome all, the Prowess of Sexingham. 

She giggled out loud. She was supposed to be working!

"Ms. Smoak?" her supervisor stood in the doorway, glaring at her with his beady eyes.  Self-serving jerk he was. "Yes?"

"Mrs. Queen would like to see you in her office." He stated with venom in his voice then left.

She frowned, wondering why would Queen Bee want to see her. Did she miss the memo of Queen-Women-See-Felicity-Smoak Day?

Shaking off her weird thoughts, her stomach churning with apprehension, she made her way to the elevator. Once inside and alone, she shook her hair out, brushing it into a smart, high ponytail, straightening her pale blue skirt and re-tucking the red half-sleeved shirt, tying the blue silk scarf around her neck better. She looked down at her feet and groaned. Ugh, why did she have to go for her cute panda flats today of all days? The elevator doors opened. Ready in her armor, like she was going into battle, she walked forward towards the CEO's office. The assistant's desk was empty, so she took a deep breath and knocked on the floor-to-ceiling glass doors.

Moira Queen glanced up and gave a curt nod to enter. Her eyes X-rayed Felicity's entire body within three seconds, the sharpness piercing as she leaned back gracefully in her chair.

"Ms. Smoak? Please sit."

Even her voice was sophisticated. It was really intimidating. Felicity gingerly sat. "You wanted to see me?"

"I did, Ms. Smoak." Her eyes scrutinized her face and Felicity fought the urge to squirm. This woman must have had ancestors in the Spanish Inquisition. Criminals would literally melt before her like butter on a hot knife. And now she was hungry.

"Walter, and your department head, have really high praise for your work," she said. Maybe she had been a Southern lady, all courtesy and sophistication. Boy, she made praise sound insulting.

Felicity straightened her spine. "I don't hear a question there, Mrs. Queen."

Moira Queen got up from her throne, and walked around the desk to the windows overlooking the city's skyline. "Do you know anything about The Tempest, Ms. Smoak."

Felicity froze. The off-shore LLC account under the name of Moira Queen that had skimmed money from the company, which she had dug up for Walter and then he had vanished. She tried to keep her face neutral. "It is a play by Shakespeare. It's about this ship that drowns in the sea..."

The older woman turned around, raising a brow. Felicity backtracked. "I didn't mean that as a pun at your family's history. At all. But that is what actually happened in the play. It is a comedy though, not a tragedy. Not that I'm calling your family tragic. Well, it kind of is, to be honest. Definitely no Simpsons. And I really shouldn't have said that."

"No, you shouldn't have," her cool voice cut through the office. She walked around the area, prancing like a lioness, looking at her like prey. "What I want to know, Ms. Smoak, is why my husband had your name written on a piece of paper under 'The Tempest'?"

Felicity swallowed. "Maybe he wanted to borrow it from me? Which is ridiculous considering he could buy his own first edition library. Sorry."

Her gaze steady and cold on her face made Felicity tilt her chin up. "I don't know why he would write that, Mrs. Queen, and with all due respect, you should ask him that since he wrote it, whenever he is back."

She didn't bat a lash, just tilted her head in an eerily familiar manner (now, she knew where Oliver got it from). "Ms. Smoak, as an employee of this company, I hope you are not hiding anything. Because I am not a woman you want to cross. You are young. You have your whole life ahead of you. Don't allow some misplaced sense of loyalty get in the way of what's right. Give me all the research you did for my husband. Or you know what you can do with your employment." 

Having had enough, Felicity got up from her seat, turning to look the woman straight in the eye, her voice iron. "If that was a threat, which it was by the sound of it, I suggest you take it back, Mrs. Queen. Loyalty is what is right and I would not tell you any research I did in confidence for your husband even if I did do it, which I did not."

She took a step forward, looking her straight in the eyes. "As for my _employment,_  I know I can leave QC right now and I'll have a job in a competing company five minutes later. Wayne Enterprises has been trying to recruit me since I left MIT and I have Lucius Fox's private number on my phone. This isn't me boasting. Just stating the facts. Oh, and do you know who has designed the security servers of this company? I have." She grit her teeth in a false smile. "So, I leave and the stocks that have already been on shaky grounds ever since Walter's disappearance will plummet right into the ground. You wouldn't want that now, would you?"

She paused a beat. "But I won't do that because I am loyal. So, don't think, for one second, that just because I am an employee you can walk all over me."

Moira Queen's face remained neutral but her lips tightened. After a few moments of analyzing Felicity, she spoke in that same hard tone, only with more ice. "You know, I have proof and record of the number of laws you've already broken by indulging in your, shall we put it this way, computer hobby? One call to the police and I can put you in prison, Ms. Smoak."

Felicity didn't even waver from her place, narrowing her eyes. "And I'm sure I can find enough skeletons in _your_ closet within two minutes to make sure you have a cell right next to mine, Mrs. Queen," Felicity said. "Or will they give you the elite treatment down in jail?"

The following stare down between the two women was intense. Although separated by a generation, they were both forged with steel, both immovable forces in the face of their adversary, which at this very moment, was the other. The sun was warm in the room, but Felicity felt cold. How could this woman be the mother of those two younger Queens? As though in answer, she said, "You're playing a dangerous game, Ms. Smoak. I protect my family, no matter the cost."

Felicity folded her hands on top of each other. "Then, you need to understand that I pose you no threat. Unless, you are one one of the villains. As for the other, don't start a game you can't finish, Mrs. Queen."

Suddenly, every cell in her body zinged, on edge, aware, leaning towards the door like there was a huge magnet on the other side and she was a tiny piece of metal, ready to fly across the distance and attach herself. He was here. Her emotions were torn between the two people in the office. Her gut churned this time for an entirely different reason. The elevator dinged and she saw him cross the span of the outer office, striding into the office, followed by Mr. Gargantuan Bodyguard, who assumed a position outside the door, hands on top of each other. He was definitely military.

Oliver halted in his tracks when he spotted her, a plethora of emotions crossing his face and his neutral mask coming up within the blink of an eye. The memories of that night so long ago, yet just yesterday, assaulted her brain. Images flashed across her mind, rapidly, one after the other, like watching a photo album in fast motion- his rough hands holding hers behind her back, his mouth hot on her body, the wicked gleam in his eyes. The very same eyes that were drinking in her face hungrily now, slowly drifting to the scarf on her neck. They hardened and the photo album was shut tight. Jaw clenching slightly, he pushed his hands in his pockets, the dark jeans hugging those thighs and hips she knew well. It was the same jeans too. Looking up at him, she saw it register in his eyes but perhaps realizing his mother was right beside her, he cleared his throat. "Lunch, Mom?"

"Yes, Oliver. I'll be right out," Moira Queen said, her tone soft and tender, dismissing her son. But he had a really thick skull. She knew, of all people. So, he stood on the threshold, looking between the two of them, maybe sensing the antagonizing undercurrents. "Is everything okay?"

"Just company matters, Oliver," the woman beside her moved forward to take his hand and clasped it in hers. She turned to look Felicity up and down, still speaking to her son, "Nothing you need to concern yourself with." The 'no one' in her voice was clear as day, at least to Felicity. With forced politeness, Felicity asked, "Can I leave now, Mrs. Queen?"

She nodded. "Yes, Ms. Smoak. But you'll do well to remember my words."

Felicity smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "So would you, Mrs. Queen. Have a good day."

With a sharp nod, Felicity moved across the sunlit space, her body buzzing due to the mere proximity between them. Oliver was staring at his mother's head with a slight frown, then looking at her, the question in his eyes crystal clear. Yeah, well, he could ask her that when he actually acknowledged her existence of his own free will. But she kept her head high, despite the fact that the closer her steps got to crossing him, the more she trembled, her cells vibrating like a tuning fork. Her breath caught in her throat, she crossed him and started to walk towards the elevator, feeling Oliver's gaze glued to her back, the longing acute in her stomach. 

Just as she punched the button, she heard Mr. Bodyguard stand beside her. "Mr. Queen asked me to escort you." His voice was deep, solid. She looked him up and down for a second, and realized she liked him. "Well, thanks but Mr. Queen can shove it where the sun doesn't rise. I shouldn't have said that!"

He gave a slight smile, nodded towards the the button she was attacking repeatedly, and thankfully the elevator was up before she broke it. Giving him a smile, she went in. Today, she realized that in the Queen clan, the award for Favorite Queen of the Year was definitely going to Thea Queen. Female category. It was like a tug-of-war between what the two women wanted from Felicity and Oliver was smack in the middle of it. Or he would be if she told him about the Walter situation. She had to. 

Moira Queen was more shady than Walter had realized. Otherwise, she would not have threatened Felicity for information the way she did. And whatever it was that she was up to was  _bad, bad_  news. Felicity shuddered. He had a right to know. He had a right to know all the things she had been ready to tell him last week, but he wasn't ready to listen. Yet. But this, he needed to know.

Quickly pulling out her phone before she could talk herself out of it (which she was really good at doing, FYI), she opened his contact and typed out a message, keeping the window open, waiting. 

 

ME : _I know you don not want to talk but this is important. Let's meet at a neutral site. Tonight. I have information about Walter's abduction._ \- Sent 12.45 p.m.

OLIVER QUEEN : _Club Verdant. Glades. 7 PM._ \- Received 12.47 p.m.

ME : _See you then. :)_

OLIVER QUEEN : _Okay._

 

Wasn't he a ray of sunshine? Such an enthusiastic texter? Not. She pouted. His broody manpain was still in full swing. Going over to her office, she started gathering all the material she had collected for Walter, and digging more into Ms. Queen's accounts, in hopes to stumble upon something else. And even though she was focused and drowned in her new mission and her head still throbbed, her eyes swung to the clock ever so often. 

Meeting him tonight meant she would have to delay the Harry Potter marathon. Again. She guessed Harry and Hermoine could wait one more day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it? Let me know.  
> And thank you for reading!
> 
> Also, I know it sounds repetitive, but for those who don't know, I'm writing a Bratva fic too, so check it out here :  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/3556271/chapters/7831586
> 
> And come say hi to me on Tumblr if you like at : supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com  
> Twitter @dorky06


	10. Different Types of Open Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, another chapter for you! :)  
> Almost 5k words, oh my! My Muse just won't quit right now. It's awesome :D  
> The soulmate bond works in mysterious ways but its getting stronger and stronger. :)  
> Once again, leave me your thoughts. :)  
> Kudos and comments, guys! :D  
> Happy reading!!!

This was so ridiculous! Felicity could not believe it. She eyed the long line of people outside the entrance of Verdant, behind the ropes, flabbergasted. 

Was it even possible? There had to be more than a hundred people, most of them giggling, squealing women. She shook her head and joined the queue of youngsters like herself out for a night on town, dressed to impress and have a good time. She had gone home herself after work, with all her evidence secured on a pen drive, changed into her favorite burgundy, backless dress and tall heels, a ton of concealer covering the fading marks on her neck and chest. She hadn't only done that because she was going to the hottest club in town, but because she was on the mission to get the hottest man in town back on track and she needed her body armor for that, which wasn't much of an armor at all, since it was barely even there.

Merging in with the crowd completely, she waited as the line crawled forward with the pace of a snail, the open doors of the club beckoning them all. These people, who had never even stepped into the Glades, were so willing to enter in now. It was kind of sad. Her hand tightened automatically on her gold clutch bag, which had a tube of lipstick, her phone and most importantly, the Evil Notebook and the complimentary pen drive. And it was way past seven already. She was so, so late.

A commotion made her look up curiously. A bouncer was struggling with the crowd at the doors to come out. Once he was successful, he walked to the middle of the crowd, looking it up and down, and raised a hand for attention. Once the line had quietened down, he spoke in a decidedly Southern accent, "Is there a Felicity Smoak here? Mr. Queen would like to see you escorted inside."

And then the funniest thing happened. Before she could even open her mouth, a redhead from the front of the line raised her hand in absolute glee. "I am Felicity. Take me to Mr. Queen."

Felicity's jaw dropped in disbelief but before she could even process that, another girl from somewhere behind her shouted, "Stop it, you liar! I am Felicity Smoak."

"What? No, I am!" Came a blonde's voice, and sooner than she would have thought possible, others joined in, the girls yelling and shouting profanities about being Felicity Smoak, all only to meet one Oliver Queen. Felicity burst out laughing at the hilarity that was ensuing all around her. This was so cliched that she would have bet it'd never happen to her, and here she was, clutching her stomach, doubled over in complete laughter as the women around her went on and on. This was _so_ good!

"Felicity?" she looked up to see Tommy approaching her with an amused expression on his face. "Evan told me there was a situation out here."

Felicity wiped the tears away from her eyes, her cheeks hurting from grinning so much, very aware of the sour expressions and eye-bullets being sent her way. "Oh, boy! You missed it, Tommy! At least six women fell on top of each other when they heard Oliver wanted a Felicity inside. Inside the club, I mean. Not any other inside. Although, I don't think they would mind so much."

Tommy lead her inside the club, the noise getting more deafening with each step, chuckling at her verbal gaffe. "Ollie must be losing his touch. I can assure you it would have been a minimum ten had it been my name."

The smirk in his voice bubbled out another bout of laughter from her. "You are one self-assured devil, Tommy."

"It's god-gifted," he smirked. "And I assume you, my hot, glowing nerd, are here to see my more-serious-than-usual best friend?"

"You assume correct," she affirmed with a nod. They stopped at the bar just as Tommy's phone buzzed. He raised a finger to the guy behind the counter, summoning him. "Give this lady whatever she wants. On the house. I'll just take this call, Felicity."

Felicity smiled her thanks and excused him, ordering herself a chocolate cocktail of some kind. The weird looking sludge was deposited in front of her within a minute, and feeling a little apprehensive from its appearance, she took a tentative sip. And a moan escaped her mouth. It was delicious! Taking a seat on the high stool, she sipped her drink, suddenly feeling Oliver's presence in the room inside her. She looked around for him and after a few minutes of searching through the gyrating bodies that were swaying with too little space in between to be considered publicly appropriate, she saw him. Then, she saw red. 

A tall brunette with a killer figure stood too close to him, pressing her ample boobs against his thick arm, another hand on his chest. She smiled up at him, and Oliver looked down at her with an albeit stoic expression, saying something. For a person who had never been the possessive type, her insides were roaring. She wanted to scratch that feminine arm away from his body. She wanted to walk across the room, smack the brunette and lay her claim on him. He was hers. And with sudden clarity, she understood exactly what Oliver had felt that night at her house, why he had been so out of his mind and so intense and rough. He had been laying his claim, too. It was a staggering realization. Their bond was spinning out of control, changing them, attuning their reactions to each other in a way that was completely terrifying.

Tommy returned to stand beside her, leaning against the counter and followed her angry gaze, then huffed out a laugh. "Oh, hello green-eyed monster. You don't have to worry, you know. He only makes heart eyes at you these days."

Felicity lips curled up despite herself. "And you know that how?"

"C'mon, Felicity," Tommy bumped her shoulder with his. "I have known the guy since we were in diapers and don't forget, I have seen him with more women than I know digits. Give me some credit."

She sighed. "I'm not worried about that. I'm just..."

"Jealous?" he provided helpfully. She scowled and he laughed. "Sorry to break it to you, babe, but I just don't have any romantic feelings for you whatsoever."

Felicity choked on her drink and started laughing. "God, you're an ass, Merlyn."

"Now, don't weep. I have to go check some stuff but I'll be back soon," with a kiss on her cheek, he left.

And her skin crawled where he had touched her. What the hell was happening? She liked Tommy very much, there was no reason for the creepy sensation. But there it was, burning slightly. What if it was the bond's doing? What if this was destiny's idea of fidelity? Her body rejecting the touch of any other man except her chosen lover? Good gods of sex, she was entirely  _ruined!_   

As though feeling the way her stomach was clenching with the sour taste the thought left in her mouth, his face shifted towards her and looked right at her from across the room, like he had known exactly where she had been the entire time. Like he had felt her presence too. Go Destiny.

A thrill of pleasure and satisfaction shot through her when he detached himself from the brunette smoothly and moved with athletic grace towards where she sat. His slate grey suit clung to his body in a way that was making her tingly in places. Purposefully crossing her legs to rein in the slow throbbing in her core, she saw his gaze flicker briefly to the smooth span of skin on display, and come back to her eyes, face still neutral. 

"Felicity," he spoke loudly over the music.

"Oliver," she greeted. "Can we go somewhere more private?"

Oliver's eyes narrowed minutely. "No. We can go someplace quieter. Come with me."

"Oh, I want to," escaped her mouth before she could stop it. He clenched his jaw and walked away, ignoring her innuendo and leaving her to hastily follow after him. They climbed up the stairs, the women on their way up trying to get Oliver's attention but backing off after seeing Felicity's evil glare. Oliver noticed it too, seemingly amused at her dog-bone attitude. Stupid, stubborn, sexy man.

She trailed after his quiet self into a dark corridor that probably separated the VIP area from the rest. But they crossed that too and entered what she assumed was his office. It was done in brown and red overtones, the walls still bare and a woodsy scent dominating the space with a huge desk and some chairs, and a couch that still looked brand new. 

"Can I get you anything?" he asked politely. 

"A lot," Felicity flirted unabashedly but seeing the expectant, polite expression on his face, she sighed and shook her head no, taking a seat in front of the desk. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."

Oliver nodded and strode in, leaving the office door wide open and sitting on the other side of the table, on his chair. She kept staring at the open door for a minute, comprehending what this meant. The man who had opened her house door and broken in was now being so paranoid being alone with her. A giggle burst out before she could stop it. What did he think she was going to do, jump his bones as soon as they had some semblance of privacy? Well, her history proved she would have. And she wanted to. Yup, she definitely would have and he was right to be terrorized of her jumping onto him. This desk looked quite solid though. It could have supported all the movement. Or maybe even the couch. That would have been quite the inauguration of the cushions. 

The sudden clearing of his throat brought her to the present. Despite the cordiality, his eyes were amused. That only meant one thing. She had said it aloud. Again. She facepalmed herself.

"You said you knew about Walter?" his husky voice cut through her sex-crazed haze. She removed her fingers from her face to see his expression darkening. He was getting into the vigilante mode. Knowing this was not going to be a walk in the park, she took a deep breath herself, and forced herself to focus. This was very important for him to know and everything else could wait.

"Yes," she said, scrounging in her bag, apprehension suddenly overcoming her. She gripped the Evil Notebook, straightened her shoulders and put it on the table. "I'm guessing you recognize this."

His eyes looked at the notebook like it was an alien species of a lethal virus suddenly put under his microscope. There was no other way to describe it. He picked it up with uncertain hands and stared a hole in it. After flipping through some pages, he blinked up at her, pursing his mouth. "How did you get this?"

Felicity called in for courage, inhaling deeply. "You remember that day I was at your house?" At his curt nod, she continued, "Well, Walter had called me over to give me this. He said he found it in your mother's drawers. I mean bedside drawers, not other kind of drawers. Not that you need to think about those things at all. Not regarding your mother. I mean you can think about my drawers all you want. I won't mind..."

"Felicity. Walter?" his impatient voice interrupted. 

She gulped nervously, "Sorry. Anyways, about a week before that, he had called me to his office one night and asked me to discreetly look, which was his British way of saying hack away at whatever, into the missing 2.6 millions that the company didn't have a record of. I traced that, after a lot of frustrating tries because it was protected with more firewalls than the FBI's, to a shell corporation in your mother's name. The LLC was called The Tempest, whose only transaction had been to purchase a warehouse in the city. I told this to Walter and let it go, thinking nothing of it."

Oliver put his elbows on the desk, leaning forward. "What then?"

Felicity's hand moved to push up specs that weren't there. "Then, he gave me the Evil Notebook a week later at your house. I found the names on it in the invisible ink, and connected it to you, as in the green-you not the normal-you. Not that your other you is abnormal. Well, it slightly is, but that is not the point. The point is that you had a same set of list that I knew you were targeting and the next thing I know is that, boom, Walter's gone."

She took a much needed breath, in and out for another minute. "Now, if I didn't know you, I'd totally suspect you of kidnapping him, because you had the perfect motive. He had your list and you wanted to shut him up. Two plus two. But since I do know you, there are no equations here. There is only one explanation I can derive from all the facts."

"And what is that?" his hoarse voice asked tightly.

"That there is someone else who knows about this list, someone who doesn't want it exposed. And since Walter said it belonged to your mother..."

"You suspect her?" his face was incredulous.

This was going to be tricky. She swallowed. Now was the hard part. His angry face was no encouragement at all. "Oliver, do you trust me?"

He looked slightly taken aback by the sudden out of the blue question, but he replied nonetheless. "Yes."

That one word gave her the strength to proceed. "Then, you need to listen to this carefully, okay? Just let me get it all out."

His Adam's apple bobbed. "How bad is it Felicity?"

She closed her eyes for a second, then willed herself to look him straight in the eyes and opened her mouth. "Your Mom called me to her office today to ask me if I knew anything about The Tempest. To be honest, it was something which I had put in the back of my mind because of the notebook and all. I didn't tell her anything and your mom is quite the interrogator, let me tell you. Anyways, when I walked back into my office, it occurred to me that there were only two things linking the notebook and The Tempest. One- your mother, and two- Walter asking me to look into it outside of office, as a personal favor to him, within a week of each other. And it all felt really hinky to me, so I hacked into our own servers, yay me, and peeked inside Walter's computer for everything he had accessed since asking me to check into the money."

She paused, the expression on his face curious and slightly cautious like he was readying himself for a blow, and gulped again. She did not want to do this. Her heart went out to him. "There were pictures in there, Oliver, and I think it's better if you just see them."

She took out the pen drive, passing it to him with a heavy heart, knowing she was going to turn his world upside down. He took it with the same hesitant fingers, attached it to the laptop and opened it. Felicity sat on the other side of the screen, watching, as his face morphed from disbelief to anger, and ultimately, utter devastation, with each swipe of his finger, knowing what he was looking at. They were pictures of the Queen's Gambit's remains, salvaged and stored inside the warehouse that Walter had unknowingly stumbled upon.

Oliver slammed the screen shut and squeezed his eyes closed, his brain putting all the pieces together, his lips trembling slightly. The pain on his face, the pain he was so obviously feeling, was too much for her. This man had already had more pain in one life than any one person deserved in ten, and she was not letting him go through it alone again. Getting up from her chair, she walked around the desk, her heart aching for him, turned his chair towards her and stepped in between his legs. Putting her fingers in his hair, she pulled him forward into the cocoon of her body, offering him whatever comfort she could. He came willingly, his head resting on her stomach, his arms holding on to her waist for life, as his body shook with grief.

And something happened. Felicity felt it deep in her gut, like the first time she had experienced that free falling sensation. She felt her body not just cocoon his own, but cocoon his feelings as well, that were seeping into her pores where ever they touched. Like she felt his pain, his turmoil in his dreams with him, she felt it again, right there standing against him in an office, but wide awake. Her body was changing from the inside, making space for his emotions along with her own and she could not find it in herself to resent destiny for that. Feeling his acute despair, acute heartache, acute sense of betrayal seeping into her, she tightened her hands around his head, giving him in abundance what he had never had before on his hell- love. 

"Shh," Felicity whispered, giving him her strength, letting him feel her love for him, letting it seep right into his broken heart, letting him heal. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Oliver."

He just buried his face harder in her stomach, gripping her body in his arms harder. She ran her fingers through his hair. "It'll be okay, Oliver. I'm right here."

His body shuddered. "Shh, baby. I'm so sorry. It'll be okay," she kept muttering to him, allowing him all the comfort he needed.

"Oh, shit, am I interrupting something?" Tommy asked from the doorway, looking at the two of them with serious eyes. 

Felicity automatically gave Tommy her back, shifting to shield Oliver from his view. Tommy would not see his best friend so vulnerable unless Oliver wanted him to.

Oliver's hands tightened infinitesimally, obviously understanding her protective stance before taking a deep breath against her stomach and loosening the grip on her. His emotions left her along with his touch, leaving her insides with a gaping void that only he could fill. The flow of emotions broke, like a faucet was suddenly twisted closed. He stood up, his face much calmer as he looked at Tommy over Felicity's head. 

"You okay, buddy?" Tommy sincerely asked. Oliver nodded and picked up the pen drive and notebook from the desk, stuffing it inside his suit jacket. Felicity shuffled nervously on her feet, feeling off-kilter just by herself in her body, not really knowing what to do.

"Could you give us a minute, Tommy?" Oliver spoke quietly, buttoning his jacket.

Tommy retreated, nodding. "Sure thing, man."

They were alone again but something had changed. She looked at his profile as he controlled his breaths and slowly looked at her. His eyes peered into hers, for long moments or just seconds she did not know, but she felt his affection for her in her own gut. On impulse, she extended her hand and cupped the side of his face, her palm tingling due to his stubble, cradling it with a level of tenderness that was foreign to her, their eyes still locked upon each other. That connection was back. That telepathy of souls intense.

Lost in the emotions swirling in his stare, feeling every emotion of her own body mixed with his, she whispered with conviction, "I'm here for you, Oliver. I'm here with you."

His eyes fluttered close at her words, savoring them, trapping them, treasuring them. He leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers, just being one for this moment before his world spun out of control again, finding this one moment of peace before it was snatched away from him. Her heart hurt for him, with him. He brushed his lips across hers in the ghost of a kiss, sending a shot of lightening through her body, before pulling back, his eyes saying everything he wasn't. 

"I have to go."

She nodded in understanding and watched him head towards the door.

"You still haven't changed your mind about us?"

He stopped but did not turn. "No, Felicity. There cannot be an us." He left.

Reeling from the emotional fest that had been the last few minutes in this office, she breathed out through her mouth, regarding his parting words. Yeah, well, like it was up to him. He was spiraling as out of control as she was and he didn't even know half of it. Not that her knowing helped her any. Well, except it made her certain that he'd be coming soon. And she would wait. She was really good at that, like when her favorite movie had been about to come out. Not that it meant she'd be twiddling her thumbs while she waited, oh no, she'd tempt him. And after this episode, she was certain he would give in. 

Leaving the office, she went to the railing, looking down at the crowd that was wild and upbeat and pondered. The bond was growing. She could feel it inside her, the vacancy that had now been left after he had occupied her body, and assuming Ms. Navarro had been correct (which she always had been) what had happened when she touched him had only been a glimpse of what sharing emotions with him would be like. She did not know how it would grow completely, if it ever would, or what the determining proximity required would be or what would trigger it, but she knew it instinctively that it wouldn't be much longer now.  

Shaking her head, she was about to turn towards the stairs when her phone buzzed. Taking it out of her purse, she frowned at the unknown blocked number and hesitated before picking up.

"Felicity Smoak?" a modulated male voice rasped.

A chill ran down her spine. This was no wrong number. She stayed silent, just breathing. She could hear the man's breath on the other end too, along with the same music that was playing in the club. He was calling from inside Verdant.

She waited, counting. One, two, three, four, five...

"Don't poke your nose where it does not belong, Ms. Smoak" the voice warned. "Or I will cut away that pink little dress you're wearing and string your corpse where neither the police nor the vigilante will find it."

Her breath hitched. He was inside and watching her. She gazed around wildly, trying to understand. "What do you want?" she asked with a firmness she wasn't feeling.

"Stop looking. For me because you can't see me but I'm keeping my eyes on you. Stop meddling. Mind your own business and your pretty little head will still be attached to that neck of yours," the voice bit out, the dead tone even more threatening than the words. This man was serious. _Very_ serious. 

"And don't try tracing this call. Even you won't be able to."

He hung up, and the dial tone came on and she moved the phone from her ear, gaping at it. 

Who was this man? And how did he find her? Suddenly realizing he could still be watching her, she ran down the stairs, frantic and slightly terrified, running till she was out in the open air, breathing heavily. 

"Are you alright, Ms. Smoak?"

The sudden voice startled her and she yelped loudly, turning around only to find Oliver's bodyguard, who was eyeing her with genuine concern.

Her relief was so acute she slumped against the wall of the building. "Yes, just a little shaken up."

"Can I get you anything?" his warm presence eased her fright. Plus he was huge. Whoever was hunting her wouldn't dare go against such tree trunky arms.

"No. Thank you, Mr.?"

"John Diggle. But call me Digg," he said with a kind smile. Felicity returned it. "Felicity."

"Were you leaving, Felicity?" he inquired. She should have been on edge because he was a stranger after all, but he seemed nice every time she had encountered him and more importantly, Oliver trusted him. That said a lot.

"Yes, I just had a scare. Nothing you need to worry about. I'm okay," Felicity bit her lip, rambling.

"Alright. Come, I'll escort you to your car," he stated, not really asking. She considered and realized she didn't really want to go to the secluded parking alone and nodded.

Digg gestured for her to proceed, taking his cell out and making a call. "Oliver, I'm stepping out for a minute." Pause. "Yeah." Pause, again. "Okay. Will do."

Felicity relaxed, not really wanting to deal with Oliver right now. They would only explode. Her eye caught Tommy near the open side door and she assumed he must have seen her run like a bat out of hell. She waved at him with a smile, to ease his concern and he relaxed, grinning and blew her a kiss. What a charmer.

Shaking her head in fond exasperation, she walked beside Digg and out into the open and secluded street. Although he was really big, she felt comfortable with him, not intimidated at all. "Please don't tell Oliver about this. He'll only worry."

His silent scrutiny with the slightly raised eyebrow made her blush furiously. Looking to divert the topic, she filled the silence. "Can I ask you something?"

Digg tilted his head. She took it for a yes and went ahead. "Why do bodyguards wear such tight suits? Like isn't the whole point of protecting someone being comfortable and being able to, I don't know, move. I mean if I were someone's bodyguard, not that I'd ever be because I'm a midget compared to you guys, and I don't really have any fighting skills, and I've never really hurt someone. Except that one time this lacrosse player in my college cornered me and I kneed him in the balls. Ooh, that must have hurt. But not the point. I was saying that if I were someone's bodyguard, I'd wear, I don't know, my bunny pajamas. And that won't be intimidating at all. Maybe the attacker will hurt himself laughing at the floppy bunnies."

They reached her mini Cooper and she looked at him. He was smiling wide, shaking his head at her. "This is much more comfortable than the army uniform i used to wear."

Opening the door for her, he let her get in and smiled again. "Drive safely, Ms. Smoak."

 "It's Felicity, DIgg."

She turned on the ignition and reversed the car out before leaving the area, watching Digg fade away in the rear-view mirror. And now that she was away from his comforting presence, she realized how spooked she really was and how badly she did not want to stay alone tonight. If the man had found her in the club, traced her number, then chances were he knew where she lived. She shuddered at the thought.

She weighed her options. She knew she could call Oliver and he would come running and stay at her place and keep it platonic, but he had his own stuff to deal with right now and them staying anywhere alone would _not_ be platonic, ever. So, that was out. Deciding upon the second more feasible option, she quickly typed a text to Stana telling her she was on her way over and turned her car right towards her place. Crashing there for the night would provide her not only her friend's company but let her feel safe.

Her phone pinged and she didn't look at it, knowing it would be Sty.

Within five minutes, she parked her car again, waving to Stana who stood in her pajamas with the door to her house wide open for her, like it always was and got out.

Pulling her phone out, she opened the unread message. She froze in her tracks, her heart thudding painfully in her chest, her body starting to tremble.

 

UNKNOWN- _Where is it?_  - Received 8.45 p.m.

 

Attached to the message was a picture. With shaking fingers, she opened it too, her stomach dropping to her knees with each breath and her blood ran cold. It was the image of her living room. It was trashed and ransacked completely, her couch shredded, table overturned, shelves on the ground, papers scattered everywhere. On the wall, she saw the shadow of the man clicking the image, capturing his presence inside her home, her safe place.

Her throat tightened, wondering what would have happened had she gone home. And with certainty, she knew it. She would have died tonight. 

It seemed like controlling emotions was going to be the least of her problems now.

She sighed and moved inside the house, closing the door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think?
> 
> Also for those who haven't read my Bratve fic, check it out here : http://archiveofourown.org/works/3556271/chapters/7831586
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	11. Green Trees Are Good For Health

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, another chapter for you! :)  
> The soulmate bond works in mysterious ways but its getting stronger and stronger. :)  
> And NewsiesMario, there it is- your awesome idea in that conversation. ;)  
> Once again, leave me your thoughts. :)  
> Kudos and comments, guys! :D  
> Happy reading!!!

Stana had her eyebrows raised. She was giving Felicity her patient I-know-you'll-spill-sooner-than-you-think look. The woman had known her for far too long. Too long for her own good, anyways.

Felicity played with her cell phone that she had switched off since seeing the message with her ransacked living room. She couldn't deal with any more of the threats tonight. Tonight, she needed her brain to rest and relax and revitalize. Tomorrow, she would deal with whatever crazy had very scarily attacked her. And report it to the police. And maybe tell Oliver about it too. Her heart paced. She knew she should. He would be furious and worried if he found out before she told him. Not that he could. It was midnight already. She had nothing to worry about as of now. Tomorrow was the Worry Day.

After coming to the house, changing into a borrowed long t-shirt and her specs, watching two consecutive Harry Potter movies, finally, the two girls were currently sitting in Stana's very non-ransacked living room on her comfortable couch, legs folded under them. They had had ice-cream and dinner and movies and Felicity's cells were all happy and drugged on sugar as Stana waited for her to spill. 

Felicity sighed. "Okay, what, Sty?"

Grinning at her finally cracking, Stana spoke. "You going to tell me what is going on?" 

"Nothing is going on," Felicity said, huffing out a breath. At her friend's disbelieving look, she added, "I just needed a break so I came to you. Can't I?"

"Of course you can," Stana reassured immediately. And the cursed glint came back. "But the question is whether your need for a break has something to do with one hot and bothered billionaire who apparently knocks on every door in this city just to find where you are."

Felicity looked down at her dark phone. "No, it has nothing to do with him. I mean, he is a bit too much at times, but no."

Perhaps not realizing the longing in her own voice, she heard Stana speak again. "Have you slept with him, Fell?"

Felicity choked on air, head shooting up. "What? No."

Stana just raised one eyebrow. Felicity caved with an inhale, muttering. "Well, it's not for the lack of trying on my part, trust me."

Chuckling, Stana commented, "I find it hard to believe that he is the one playing hard to get considering the pink marks on your neck. C'mon, Fell. It's me you are talking to, the one who had to hear every thing that douche bag Cooper ever did to you. So, please, just tell me. I'm dying to hear something nice for a change. What's going on?"

"He's not playing," Felicity remarked. She knew that in her bones. "It's kind of complicated. He's physically not averse to doing stuff to me at all. And boy, can he do stuff to me. My ovaries want to dance samba with his soldiers so bad it makes me ache. And than he goes and does something like making me come without even touching me, for a bet, and I ache like nothing before and then he still won't sleep with me. He's in denial of some sort. I can't explain it. But I know he wants me."

"I'll say he definitely wants you," Stana's mouth hung open. "Did I just hear you say he made you have an orgasm without even touching you?"

"That's what you got from that?" Felicity grumbled. At Stana's stunned silence, she spoke. "Yes, he made me come without touching me below the waist."

Stana's eyes widened. "Are you serious? Is that even a thing?"

"Apparently. It's a really mind-blowing thing, too," Felicity smiled, remembering the night.

"And here I thought my orgasmic marathon with Vincent something-or-the-other in the parking lot was the sexual experience of the decade," Stana mumbled mindlessly. She gazed at Felicity, still lost. "He _really_ made you come just with second base stuff?"

Felicity nodded, a grin threatening to escape at Stana's wonder.

Her friend sighed, "I'd totally break my no playboy rule if I didn't love you. Wow. Just wow."

The silence ensued for a moment, Felicity remembering that night with Oliver, on her kitchen counter and his Disapparating act that had followed. Stana was probably wondering if she could find a guy to try it with. 

She suddenly took a hold of Felicity's arm. "And you are saying that you still haven't slept together even after _that?_ "  


Felicity was saved from answering her question by incessant knocking on the door. Startled, her eyes flew to the wall clock. 1.25 AM. 

Her heart plummeting to her knees, her thoughts ran away from her, nerves fraying. Could it be the man who had broken into her house? Was it possible that he had found her and came looking for whatever he was after? No. She couldn't put her friend in danger with herself. 

She grabbed Stana's arm and held on it, trying to think of something, anything. The knocking turned into a pounding, the door barely hanging on its hinges from the sound of it. 

Stana looked at Felicity, confused at the panic on her face. "Fell, let me answer the door."

Before she could respond, her panicked brain calmed down. The familiar feeling invaded her tummy and she let go of her friend's arm, slumping against the cushions, knowing who was on the other side of the door. Stana got up and left the room, walking down the corridor to the front gate that Felicity could not see from this room. She heard the door opening, Stana's surprised voice saying "Oliver?" and the door clicking shut.

She got up from the couch on unsteady feet just as he came running into the room, his eyes wild, crazy and more panicked than Felicity had felt moments ago. He knew. She didn't know how he did, but he knew about her being in danger. He closed the distance between them in less strides than she could count on a hand, and took a hold of her arms, his untamed eyes scanning her body feverishly for any damage. Upon not finding any, his entire body, that had been strung tight, relaxed and he pulled her into his chest, like she had earlier at the club. And just like before, she felt it again- felt her body filling with his emotions, his worry, his anger, his relief but mostly prominently, his wrenching fear. She trembled slightly, overwhelmed, and his hands tightened around her body protectively, his face burying itself in her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, peppering kisses on her head. Feeling safer that she ever had, she put her hand around his waist, pulling him closer and burrowing her face in his chest, his slowing heart beat soothing in its tempo. She let him feel it too, how scared she had been, how grateful she was for him, how safe he made her feel. 

His body shuddered slightly, and she whispered, only so he could hear it, "I'm here. I'm okay."

"Don't ever do that again, Felicity," his voice came right in her ear on a breath. "I just... just don't disappear on me again, okay?"

She nodded. He pulled back, looking her in the eyes. "Promise me?"

"Okay,"  she whispered again, knowing how important this was to him.

"Uh-hmm" a throat clearing broke the haze, and Oliver took a step back, breaking their connection, leaving her body with that hollowness again.

Stana was looking at the two of them with a knowing look. "So, I'm just going to step into my bedroom and that," she pointed a finger to a door towards the far right, "is a guest bedroom, where you two could, you know, _talk_."

Felicity flushed at the lascivious innuendo. Stana continued, completely unphased. "Plus, I'll put in my ear plugs, so you can _talk_ as loudly as you want. Good night."

With a wink at Felicity, she left and shut her door, leaving the two of them alone in the room. Felicity took a deep breath and started to speak when Oliver interrupted. 

"Not here, Felicity. Walk with me?" 

With a slight frown, Felicity shouted, knowing her friend was very much awake. "I'm going out for a walk, Sty. Be back soon."

"Don't rush anything on my account," she shouted back from inside.

Oliver's lips tilted a little as he gestured for a blushing Felicity to precede him outside. Closing the door behind him, Felicity took in the silent, secluded street, bathed in beautiful white moonlight, sleeping like everything else. The wind blew softly against her skin as she started walking beside a quiet Oliver. She glanced sideways at him, seeing his hands thrust inside the pockets of his brown leather jacket, his shoulders broad and face forward. He was beautiful, too much to be true at times. 

But the distance he was keeping between them was starting to piss her off and exasperate her at the same time. He was walking with a minimum of four feet separating them, like she was a leper who would latch onto him at the first sign of intimacy. Well, he wasn't wrong on the latching part, much to the chagrin of her self-control. But what the heck. If she didn't have the right to jump her soulmate, then everything was wrong in the world.

He stopped walking near a grove of trees, away from the street and facing some random backyard. It looked private, and the trees concealed his body from anyone farther than where she stood, watching him stand underneath the shadows, half in dark, half in the moonlight, and turned to her. She wondered when had she turned so poetic in her own head. 

"What happened?" he asked softly, leaning against a tree trunk, watching her.

"How did you know?" she questioned back, folding her arms across her chest, Stana's borrowed t-shirt doing very little to hid her braless state from his shrewd gaze. 

"Just answer the question," Oliver demanded.

Felicity huffed. "You tell me and I will."

He took a step right into her personal space, gritting his teeth. "God damn it, Felicity! Will you stop fucking pushing me? I don't want to lose control with you!" 

Felicity's heart hummed with the small victory of getting him to talk, finally. She narrowed her eyes. "But that's exactly what I want, Oliver. I want you to let go of that precious control with me."

"I'll hurt you," he ground out.

"We both know you won't," she stated confidently. 

Their eyes clashed with each others along with their wills in the silent night. Oliver's shoulders slumped after a moment as he stepped back and leaned against the tree again. "Tommy told me he saw you run out from the club," he spoke and Felicity felt disappointed that he had given up without the fight she was itching for. Stubborn mule of an man. He continued. "He was worried about you."

Her heart melted slightly, both at Tommy's concern and hearing the unspoken 'So was I' in his tone. "And?"

He clenched his jaw, a dangerous tone entering his voice. "And so I called you and your phone was switched off. I left messages and then I went to your house, and decided that maybe I shouldn't break in like last time. But I got to the door and saw that someone already had." His head tilted, throat working. "I stood there in your destroyed living room and you have no idea the kind of thoughts that went through my head. I asked Diggle to go check QC to find you, hoping that you just went back to the office. You hadn't. And I came to your friend's house as a last resort."

His eyes closed. "You have any idea what I could have done if you weren't here, too?"

Felicity looked down, feeling slightly bad for not informing him, the idea that he could have stopped by her house never having occurred to her. 

"Why didn't you tell me, Felicity?" he asked softly.

She looked back up at him again, and swallowed. "I didn't want to worry you. You already had enough on your plate."

His incredulous look made her feel stupid. "And you think a break-in at your house wasn't important? What if you had been hurt? Do you have any..." 

"I wasn't there, okay!" Felicity cut him off, feeling miserable. 

His eyes narrowed suddenly. "Then, how are you so calm at the news of your house being trashed?" He paused. "Why did you run away at the club?"

"I..." she lingered, not knowing how to tell him.

His face was getting thunderous with each second. "Talk, Felicity. Now!"

"Don't take that tone with me, mister!" she spoke, offended. "You ignore me for days on end, run away from me like I am a leprechaun and demand answers like, like, well like a really demanding guy! Just because I got spooked at the club by that creepy phone call or knew my house was broken into courtesy of that photo does not mean you get to take the high-handed attitude with me, alright?"

"What phone call?" he demanded again, his expression aggressive in its intensity.

"Did you even hear what I just said?" Felicity muttered.

Before she knew it, Oliver's hands were on her arms again, spinning her around to press her against the tree, caging her in. His turmoil was churning in her stomach, his anger, his fear mingling with her own. 

"Tell me now, Felicity, before I can't stop," he rough voice spoke, breath fanning across her face.

Felicity took in a deep breath. "I got a phone call after you left. The guy told me to mind my business. I got spooked and ran. I came to Stana's house, got a text with a picture of my living room, and switched off my phone. That's it."

"And you couldn't have called me?" he said, his jaw working, eyes boring into hers.

"Why are you so hung up on that? I told you I thought you might be busy. I would have told you tomorrow, not that I owe you anything since I was calling the police tomorrow too. And will you stop rubbing my arm? It's getting me hot and you are only going to leave me hanging so please."

Oliver's hand did the opposite, rubbing tighter circles on her arm, circles that were resonating around her free breasts and deep inside her. Oh, no. Her breasts anywhere near him were risky. Very risky. And amazing. Quite amazing.

Oliver leaned in closer and looked deep into her eyes, his arousal mixing with her own, but the sincerity of his emotions grounded her. "Listen to me, and listen carefully. I don't care what is happening or what I'm doing. Something happens to you and you tell me. I don't care if a building has dropped on me or I'm busy kissing you into oblivion- you tell me, okay?"

Felicity bit her lip, her nipples peaking, but nodded. He continued. "You have your personal vigilante at your beck and call, so calling the police before me makes it kind of redundant, doesn't it?"

His hand slowly moved inwards, towards her cotton covered breasts and he suddenly stopped, removing his hand. She reeled with the sudden abandonment of her body. The void in Felicity was gaping, both from the sudden removal of his touch and his feelings. 

He sighed. "You are right. I shouldn't let it get ahead of me. I'm sorry."

Felicity gaped at him, scowling. "So, that's how you are going to behave? You want me to tell you about an ant bite but you don't want it to get ahead of you. No kissing into oblivion happening then, I suppose. Great. I never thought my life would be like a soap opera and I only know about them because Stana talks about how dramatic they are. I'm more a thriller kind of girl, which I suppose is quite obvious. Except Suits. That is one epic of a show. And Harvey Specter, oh boy, I can fan myself when he talks legal and I don't even understand it. You think Gorgeous Laurel understands it? Not a great time to talk about your ex-girlfriend whom you cheated upon with her sister, I guess."

He smiled slightly, a knowing look in his eyes. "Is there something you want to ask me?"

Felicity grumbled, her mood sour because of the idiot in front of her. "A lot, actually. But I'll settle on asking you to escort me back to the house and leaving me to drown myself in blankets."

Her hormones were traitors, she knew. They would make her miserable one second, and horny in the next. And her ego could only stand being turned down so many times, even if she knew he wanted her. She had to go. 

Oliver's face hardened, lips pursing. "No, you need to tell me everything about that phone call. And I want to see that picture."

Felicity pinched her nose. "I'll do all that tomorrow. Right now, I'm going back."

She began to walk past him but he pulled her back against the tree, her body swelling with his anger as well as hers. "We are not done talking."

She tilted her chin back, defiant. "Oh, yes we are."

"Don't push me, Felicity."

"Why don't you get that tattooed on your thick skull? Might save you the repetition," Felicity pushed at his buttons, feeling his reactions seep in through his touch. He was getting furious, and she felt triumphant. She had to get through him and this was the only way.

"I know what you are doing, Felicity," he muttered, the line of his lips getting straighter, their faces covered in shadows but visible to one another. 

"I know you do," she reverted back, "but can you stop it?"

Her challenge was met with narrowed eyes. Felicity looked into his eyes, standing on her toes as he stilled, his hands tightening on her waist. She gave him ample time to stop her, and when he didn't, she pulled on his jacket and latched onto his mouth. The moment her lips touched his, his feelings cemented themselves inside her, like they had been guests previously, but now they owned her body. A gasp left his mouth and she took the control of the kiss, pushing her tongue softly into his, pushing her breasts right into his chest, her spine curving to allow him to bend. She sipped from his lips, feeling his arousal merging with her own, magnifying it two-fold, making her wetter than she had ever been. 

His hands came up and cupped her ass, caressing the soft skin, making her shiver down to her toes. The tempo of the kiss changed suddenly, and his fingers went exploring inside the line of her panties, into her folds.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he muttered against her mouth. 

"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" she mumbled, tilting her head to let him latch onto her neck. 

She felt him smile against her mouth. "Mine, all mine." Nibble. "Just mine"

Felicity's heart clenched at the possessiveness she felt flowing into her from his body. His index finger moved over her clit, and she wondered for a moment what they must look like if someone could see them in the shadows- two impassioned lovers, against a tree hidden from the street, the dark shadows concealing them almost. Their silhouettes must look so erotic, just two shadows, tangled around each other. The thought turned her on more, and she ground herself against his hand, his own arousal growing into a crescendo inside her. She moaned as he eased a finger inside her for the first time, a sudden tear leaking from her eye, knowing this moment was significant. 

"Oliver," she whispered into the wind, and his finger pumped inside her slightly faster, his mouth coming back to hers from her neck, invading it in sync with his finger. He added another and she clung to him, her heart wild like a hummingbird flapping its wings, threatening to burst out of its cage, his exalted arousal seeping into every cell of her body, every pore that he surrounded her with.

His arm wrapped around her waist to keep her upright. Her left leg was draped around his waist, keeping her open to his ministrations. Her mouth trembled as he continued to move his fingers inside her, her mind slowly blanking as her core tightened and tightened around him, nerves getting tauter and tauter and his fingers just wouldn't stop. 

In and out. In and out. Repeatedly. 

His mouth swallowed the frantic sounds she was making, her fingers gripping his hair so hard she was afraid she would pull and he still didn't stop. 

In and out. In and out. In and out.

 

He pushed his own erection into her thigh, pumping it in sync with his hot mouth and his marauding fingers.

 

In and out. In and out. In and out.

And before she knew it, her body convulsed around him, stars bursting behind her clenched eyelids, her scream drowned by his tongue, her body orgasming even harder than she had before.

She panted, her chest heaving, rubbing against his, sending thrills of pleasure shooting through them both. 

Her brain was dead quiet. Yup, it was out for the count, slumbered into shock.

She pulled back, blinking owlishly at him as he smiled slightly. "I didn't leave you hanging."

She blinked again. "But you are hung."

He grinned, slowly disentangling himself from her. "So I've been told."

"I didn't mean _hung_ hung," Felicity back-tracked. "Although from the feel of it, obviously, duh. But I'll have to ascertain only when I can see you naked. What I meant was you're still hanging. I have to return the favor. Now, I'm two mind-blowing orgasms deep in debt and I want to repay you. Not here though. Like in a bedroom. But not Stana's. My own. After I get my house back in order, that is. Then, we can have an orgasm marathon. What say?"

Oliver pushed her hair back from her face. "Okay, little sex monkey."

"Hey, I object to that!" Felicity said.

"But first," his voice sobered again, "we need to find who trashed your house and let me take care of him."

"Tomorrow," Felicity reminded him.

"Tomorrow," he agreed and took a hold of her hand. Tangling his fingers with hers, he gave it a little squeeze and pulled her back towards where they had come. Come as in walked. Only she had had the privilege of the other coming. And he was right. She _was_ a sex monkey. 

Walking back to the house, Felicity could not help feel giddy. Her cells were doing a victory dance, happy in their post-orgasmic bliss. As was she. And although he had been generous again, she felt how satisfied he was, too. 

 

They reached the house in comfortable silence and Oliver pulled on her hand again, stopping her from opening the door. "Give me a call tomorrow when you want to talk."

She nodded, suddenly overcome by shyness. Digging her toes in her slippers, she looked down at her nails in fascination and whispered, "What happens now?"

Oliver stepped into her personal space again, tilting her face up with his hand, his conviction, his affection flowing into her own body along with a little hesitation. "You become mine. Rest, we'll talk about tomorrow."

With a soft kiss that leaves her tingling, he opened the door and let her enter. "Sweet dreams, Felicity."

Oh yes, she'll have really sweet dreams. And he would too. She smiled and closed the door.  

"Some walk, huh?" came Stana's amused voice from the kitchen. Felicity flushed and looked at her sly smile. "I don't know why the two of you couldn't have just used the perfectly strong bed in my guest room that doesn't even squeak."

"Nothing happened like that, Sty," Felicity lied, knowing from the sensation in her neck that Oliver's scruff and mouth had left visible marks. Again.

"The hickey on your neck, not to mention your bee stung mouth, tell me completely otherwise," Stana hit the nail right on the head. Felicity scowled.

"Okay, babe," Stana smirked, kissing her on the cheek. "I have had enough entertainment for one night. I'm off to bed. You can go have naughty dreams now."

Felicity smacked her on the arm as she winked again, leaving with a laugh.

Shaking her head, she went towards the guest bedroom, and flung herself face down on the bed, wiggling her toes into the mattress. She felt like squealing with glee. She couldn't believe he had given her another body-shattering orgasm. She couldn't believe she had let him do it against a tree! And he had stopped running. She felt happy as she turned over to stare at the ceiling, just breathing with a stupid grin on her face.

As her own emotions slowly calmed down, she realized that something felt different. She frowned, trying to pinpoint what it was.

After a few minutes of pondering, like an errant truck on a road, it hit her. The void in her, the one that came back whenever Oliver was not touching her, was gone.

The void was gone. There was no void. The space her body had made for his emotions was occupied.  

Which meant, the bond had grown. She was still connected to him. She could still feel his own emotions, albeit very mutely, but she could. 

Holy mother of Google. That only meant one thing.

Her orgasms were very, very dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think?
> 
> Also for those who haven't read my Bratve fic, check it out here : http://archiveofourown.org/works/3556271/chapters/7831586
> 
> And say hi to me on   
> Tumblr : supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com  
> Twitter @dorky06


	12. Once Upon His Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!  
> Another chapter. :D  
> NOTE- This chapter is a deviation form the normal narration as THIS IS FROM OLIVER'S POV. I felt that it was needed.  
> Boy, he is _not_ an easy guy to write but I hope you enjoy him. And since it's his head, well, it's dirty and sweary so be warned. It'll be back to Felicity's POV next chapter on.  
>  Also, Katt, your idea of mutual pleasure is in here. ;)  
> The bond is growing, peeps.  
> Kudos and comments, guys, remember. :)  
> Happy reading!!!

Felicity Smoak.

The name itself brought up a slight smile on Oliver's face. A smile that had been more than a stranger just a month ago. It had been an alien. After calling Diggle, a man who Oliver had come to respect and formed a great partnership with, the man who had been genuinely afraid when Felicity had been missing, he had told him she was safe and headed home. He would have to discuss the break-in but tomorrow.  

Oliver parked his bike in the garage, his mind on the blonde in the over sized t-shirt he had just made come with his fingers. And, boy, had she come! Had Oliver been the cocky asshole he used to be in his party days, he would have felt smug and god-like over the power he had over women. But living, surviving the way he had, he knew how precious every moment people took for granted was. And every moment with Felicity was a gift he did not deserve, but the selfish bastard he was, he wanted.

Shaking his head, he walked out of the parking and into the corridor that opened in the darkened kitchen. The mansion, the place that had been home for more than two decades of his life, felt like a museum now. Cold and detached, where everything was to be looked at and admired but nothing to be touched. But he could not do anything about that. Thea was still here. This was still her home and as long as it was, he would stay. For her sake.

As it was, his sister had grown up way too fast for his liking but at least the downward spiral she had been stubbornly spinning into since his return had stopped. He would have liked to think it was because their relationship has become stronger, which it had to a certain extent, but that would not be true. He was pretty sure it had something to do with the boy in the red hoodie and the I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude. Not exactly the poster child for being the boyfriend for Thea Queen.

Well, Oliver knew he was being too harsh. If he had his way, she would have stayed a small midget in pigtails and chased after him and Tommy, toothless, his entire life. Just because he could not, did not mean he had to like the piece of shit that was very well doing stuff with his sister he shuddered just to think about. Fucking asshole. But Oliver had to give him credit for halting Thea in her tracks, and from experience, he knew it was no easy feat. Still did not mean he had to like him. It was his brotherly duty.

He opened the door to the dark house, sneaking in silently like he did every night. The kitchen was empty and suddenly his stomach rumbled. He was hungry and that was rare. Actually, it wasn't. He had just learned to live with the feeling. The island had not allowed him feasts like he had had at home. Food had been a rarity. When he got a kill, he would gorge and fill up his stomach, knowing it might be the last time he ate for days. He still remembered vividly the first time his stomach had cramped due to acute hunger. He had not wanted to kill the bird, but his own stomach had been killing him, and he had. He still remembered the relief he had felt when he had food go down his mouth, the rough meat tasting like the best morsel. He still remembered wondering, for the first time in his life, if he was a natural killer because his guilt had been outweighed by his own needs. 

The first time he had hunted with Slade, they had caught a huge boar that had kept them fed nearly three days. That was the only time he had had meals for more than once in succession. Hunger, in the first two years on the island, had become another demon inside him whose presence did not bother him anymore. Hong Kong, Russia, nothing could exorcise this demon from his body. And now he was home, he could have every food he wanted, but his body did not crave it anymore. 

"Ollie?"

His sister's sleepy voice interrupted his musings. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, making an effort to not let them even touch his baby sister. She was still good and the darkness in him needed to stay far, far away from her.

"Speedy, come for a midnight snack?" he said, voice deliberately jovial and infused with a lightness he wished he felt. 

"Isn't it later than midnight?" she yawned, coming into the kitchen and propping up on the island stool. "When did you get in?"

"A few minutes ago," he replied, looking at her innocently. He really prayed she did not interrogate him tonight, like almost every other night she did. He hated lying to her and he hated that he still had to be the irresponsible douche-bag he used to be in her eyes. 

"Hmm," Thea put her chin on her folded arms on the counter, only the moonlight illuminating the kitchen. "Were you with Felicity?"

Oliver paused, raising an eyebrow. And ignored the way his face wanted to defy his will into a smile. 

Thea went on. "I saw her today at the office. I mean yesterday."

Oliver saw the way her eyes shifted away from him. She was hiding something. "Why did you go to see her, Speedy?"

She looked back at him with wide, liquid innocent eyes that she used whenever she wanted to get off easy. She forgot he knew her too well, having fallen victim to the said eyes more times than he could count. "Speedy?"

She pursed her lips and tried the eyes for exactly three more seconds before huffing and spreading her arms in annoyance. "Why doesn't this work on you anymore?"

Oliver stapled his fingers, waiting her out. "Don't change the subject."

Thea's defensive face came on. "Alright! Yes, I went to see her because you had been brooding and miserable this entire week and I don't want you sad anymore, okay? I went to see her because she makes you happy and it's obvious you two have something going on," she raised a hand, "and I don't want to know. At all. Ew. I just asked her to talk to you and you know make you all smiley. I like Oliver 2.5. The one who smiles."

Oliver shook his head at her. "I smile with you too, Speedy."

"Not like you do with her, and I'm not complaining." She suddenly took hold of his hands, looking up at him with such earnest eyes he would have given her anything just then. "I get that it's different with her and I completely approve. You, of all the people, deserve to be happy, Ollie. And she makes you happy. I know that. Plus, she has the best mouth ever!"

His sudden thoughts about her mouth were not at all appropriate for the company of his sister. He reined in the thoughts and focused on the conversation. "She does."

Thea leaned forward, grinning. "Does she say stuff like that all the time?"

Oliver just smiled. Then he frowned. "Hey! I'm not discussing her with you!"

She sat back triumphantly. "Aha! I knew it! And now I can sleep peacefully since I know you worked out whatever crawled up your ass with her."

Hopping down from the stool, literally bouncing on her toes like the ten-year old he remembered, she kissed his cheek and turned to leave, singing, "Ollie and Smoaky sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Speedy," Oliver called, exasperated but amused. 

Thea turned to her room but her voice still drifted down to him. "Ollie and Smoaky sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Shaking his head in fondness, he looked into the fruit basket and picked up an apple, his mind going into the gutter like it always did when he thought of Felicity. It shouldn't but it did. He could not think of her now when he looked at an apple, especially after the most erotic dream he had had in the longest time, doing everything he had wanted to do to her while she munched on his favorite- chocolate apple, her mouth tasting a heady combination of fruit, chocolate and her own sweetness. Thea's nursery rhyme also hit an erogenous zone. He could not have told her obviously, but his mind remembered. They had done more than kissing against that random tree, right in view of anybody who would have looked under the shadows. His jeans got tighter. Fuck.

Finishing the apple quickly, every bite a reminder of the way she had looked when he had eaten that apple, teasing her, sexual challenge obvious right in his parlor in the presence of Tommy. He could recall the way her strawberry pink lips had parted, her eyes lighting up in delicious challenge before her teeth had clamped down on the plush bottom lip he had wanted to devour. He could recall every moment of the way she had looked in his dream, illuminated and so bright it hurt his eyes. He could recall her just an hour ago, head tilted back, her neck his for the taking, eyes clenched in ecstasy he was responsible for. And bastard that he was, he remembered the way he had bruised her body, but not with guilt, with pride and pleasure as she had come trembling in his arms with such trust and abandon. And only through breast stimulation. And lord, what beautiful breasts she had. They fit his palms perfectly when he cupped them, like they were made for his hands. It had not been the first time he had made a woman come through just manipulation of her breasts, but it had been the quickest, most significant and most amazing experience for him, even though he had been left with blue balls.

Those very balls were heavy and throbbing with the need to release. Oliver closed his eyes and took a deep breath before racing to his room and heading straight for the shower, his clothes on the ground trailing behind him. He shut the door and entered the shower, putting the temperature to hot and looked around. Contrary to what everyone had believed, Oliver had never fucked a girl in his own house. He had always gone to theirs or found other spots, but no one had been allowed to sneak here. Laurel had come and stayed but never slept in his house. She would have had liked to, but it made Oliver uncomfortable. This had been his space away from the careless dick he used to be.

He looked around the lavish bathroom and realized that he wanted to bring Felicity here. He wanted to prop her on the counter and get down on his knees as he tasted her, his tongue driving her into one ecstatic orgasm after another. He wanted to push her against the shower wall and take her from behind, hard and fast as he gripped her glorious ass. He wanted to press her against the glass as she looked at them in the mirror while he claimed her very core for his own, eyes locked on hers in reflection. He wanted to slide her closer in the bathtub and let her ride him, soft and slow and she clung to his body when she forgot everything but his name. Oliver. Oliver. Oliver.

God, he loved how she said it, every way she said it- in the heat of passion, in exasperation, in comfort, in anger. _She_ was glorious. She was precious. And she was all his. For a man who had never been possessive, even having shared girls with Tommy, even seeing his ex Laurel with him without feeling anything but guilt at the way he had treated her, seeing that very same guy, his best friend, touching Felicity, flirting with her, made him want to tear his arm off and throw her over his shoulder. At first, he did not understand it. Thea had been right. Felicity was not his 'type'. But she was better. And she was his. And he had allowed his possessiveness of her, his jealousy of other men, become another demon inside him. She was his. That was the end of it.

He entered the hot shower and let the underrated heat, which he had missed so, so much on the island, envelop him. The water cascaded down his skin, covering muscles and scars with equal measure, just like she had with her eyes, completely unbiased, his scars anything but ugly to her. He was in awe of her. He let his hand wander down his abs, knowing she would have loved to explore him with her fingers, her mouth. His hand went down and took a firm hold of his bulging erection, a groan leaving his mouth at the touch.

Would she have touched him boldly or would it have been a shy, hesitant touch? Would her eyes have widened behind her adorable glasses at the size of him? Would she have cupped his balls in her small hands as she touched him with her mouth? Would she have littered kisses across his veins and skin and teased the tip with her tongue? Or would she have just taken him in her mouth while she squeezed his balls, her plush, red mouth wrapping around his cock like a popsicle? Would she have given him time to adjust or simply just attacked him?

His breathing fastened, his hand starting to move faster. And suddenly, behind his closed eyes, he saw her. It was so clear, like he was watching television. His confused mind wanted to understand what was happening but he was too aroused, too far gone to give a shit anymore.

He saw her on a bed, a bed he knew was not hers, in a room he knew was not hers. She was still in her over-sized t-shirt, her nipples obviously peaking under the cotton, her eyes closed and head tilted back in that familiar way. Her hand was inside her polka dotted panties, and Oliver, even right now, could not help the smile he felt coming. Polka dots. Only her.

Her fingers were moving, inside her panties, vigorously from the looks of it. He wished she would remove them so he could see.

"Uh-huh, not happening, mister," Felicity mumbled. Oliver froze, his hand stopping on his hard-on. What the fuck was happening? Swallowing, he took a breath and tried something he was sure he was crazy to. 

"Get rid of it, Felicity," he whispered, inside his own shower, certain he had gone crazy. But the strangest thing happened. Felicity, behind his closed eyes, huffed like she would have and slowly pulled them down. "Trust you to be dictatorial even miles away. Dick-tatorial. Appropriate." She giggled, eyes still closed, and Oliver just stayed frozen, baffled. Could she hear him? Feel him? What the _fuck?_

And then she was naked below the waist, her fingers massaging her little nub slowly and Oliver's brain fused all logic out. That could come later. Right now, they had to come. He started moving his hands up and down slowly, just watching her pleasure herself, her hand moving faster round and round her clit. His breath came rapidly again.

"Feel me, Oliver," she whispered softly, moaning. "Feel me working on you. Come for me, baby."

Oliver's spine tingled, his own overdue orgasm building up inside him at her words. Her moans were getting breathier, two of her fingers now delving into her heat just like his had just hours ago, and he knew she was thinking about it too, about the way he had curled his fingers inside her, the way he had bit her neck softly like he wanted to right now, the way he had wanted to drive into her. His hand moved faster on his erection. Up and down, up and down.

"Yeah, baby," Felicity's breathy voice reached him. "Just like that."

He didn't know who she was talking to anymore, but she talked and his arousal spiked up by five degrees at the thought of her talking dirty to him.

"Talk to me, Felicity," he spoke, his voice bouncing off the glass walls. She moaned a little. "Some other day, hotness. Tonight, just come for me."

Oliver pressed his forehead against the cool shower wall, his hand furious now, moving with vigor. Their breaths were in sync. Her hand sped up too, her legs scissoring, looking for purchase and her back arched, mouth opening in a silent scream as she came passionately, her body trembling violently. And without warning, his own back arched, butt flexing as his release came upon him, triggered by hers. He came with a rough grunt, supporting his weight on the wall, calming his breathing down as he opened his eyes and took in the steaming glass walls around him.

_What the fuck had just happened?_

He had come to the shower to avoid his balls from bursting up and for some reason, he had seen Felicity pleasuring herself and had joined her, having one of the most intense orgasms of his life, just from watching her. But that was still not what baffled him. It was the fact that she had understood what he said and felt and responded like she would. Was it only in his head? Was she a figment of his imagination who had come forth? But she felt too real. No, he was not going crazy.

He had seen enough in the last five years to understand that not everything on this earth could be believed or perceived by the human mind. There were things, phenomenons that existed that humans could not even begin to comprehend. He had accepted that. In the past years, Oliver had trained himself to stay alert, trained his body to react instantly. His senses had never failed him and he trusted them implicitly. Which was why he also knew that there was something beyond his understanding at work here.

Some inexplicable pull inside him had made him turn to her that night in the alley, the same thing had made him shut up her beautiful mouth that said the most ridiculous things with a kiss, the same thing had made him seek her out again and again when he had promised himself upon his return to not engage in any romantic pursuits. It was dangerous. But she knew about his darker side and still made him feel like a man worthy of her time and care. She made him smile. She amazed him. And his entire being as completely attuned to her presence, his senses so on alert when she was around.

Cleaning up and drying himself, he stepped into his bedroom and went to the bed, naked beneath the sheets. It had taken him a long time to adjust to the feel of the bed, to the feel of the soft mattress cushioning his body and the high thread count sheets sliding over his muscles. Now, he preferred sleeping in the nude, to be completely free of any clothes in case he thrashed in his nightmares. Speaking of, his dreams baffled him too. Over the past few weeks, his nightmares had stopped feeling so horrific, so painful. And last week, he had had the best of dreams that he was sure his damaged brain could not have come up with and the best sleep in five years. He felt comforted in his sleep, exactly like he had when Felicity had held him to her body in his office at Verdant, her presence calming him down like nothing ever had. It was all related somehow, he knew, in his gut, but he didn't know how, and to be honest, he did not really care anymore. He was comforted and he was not questioning it because it was Felicity. It was Felicity and he trusted her almost as instinctively as he protected her. 

Staring at the ceiling, he suddenly realized he hadn't checked her apartment for any clues in the hurry to find her. He took in a deep breath. When Tommy had told him about Felicity running away like someone had been after her, he had felt guilty for leaving her alone, and pained that maybe after his hard, hard efforts to ignore her the entire week, she had given up on him. The thought had saddened him more than he had expected but he had let it go. She would be better off without him. He knew that even now. But he couldn't stay away, not anymore. She did not know this but slowly, with every word she spoke, and every smile she indulged upon him, she was saving him from drowning right into that horrid sea.

But nothing had come even remotely close to the way he would have drowned when he saw her apartment. The trashed furniture, the scattered papers. Destruction. His hands had trembled as he had dialed her number repeatedly, his panic greater than anything he had known when he kept getting her voicemail. He calmed himself down. He had found her, safe and unharmed and absolutely clueless to the hell he had almost been through. That was all that mattered and he did not even want to think of what he would have done if she had not been at her friend's house.

He turned and closed his eyes, trying to catch a few hours of sleep. But his mind kept going back to what she had told him. Someone had been stalking her at his club. Someone had spooked her with a phone call, spooked her so much that she had not gone to her apartment, something he was grateful for. She had good instincts too, except when it came to him perhaps. He had so much blood on his hands, so much death in his soul, he knew he did not deserve her. But he was hers as long as she had him, all bad parts of him. He did not think there were any good left.

But someone had gone looking for her and destroyed her sanctuary, leaving her a message he would know about tomorrow but he doubted it was any good.

Someone had tried to scare her. His beautiful, luminous, absolutely amazing nerd whose filter broke remarkably around him. His passionate woman who aroused him like nothing before just by the honest throes of fire in her. The woman who was the harbringer of news that broke his beliefs one second and his savior, his protector the next. His salvation. 

Just his.

Rage was building inside him in a crescendo, his fingers itching for the feel of an arrow, his jaw clenching.

Someone had threatened her, scared her, harmed her.

And by every breath in his body, he vowed, they would pay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how did I do?  
> Let me know your thoughts! :D
> 
> Also for those who haven't read my Bratve fic, check it out here : http://archiveofourown.org/works/3556271/chapters/7831586
> 
> And say hi to me on  
> Tumblr : supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com  
> Twitter @dorky06


	13. Bang Bang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! 
> 
> Thank you so much for the _amazing_ response to this story. You guys are the absolute best! :D 
> 
> The soul bond and threats get more intense. Here's the next chapter for you all. :)
> 
> Tell me what you thought. Drop me a line.
> 
> Kudos and comments, guys!!! :)
> 
> Happy reading!!!

It was getting late. The hour was already up and the sun had set outside but Felicity was still stuck in the office, finishing a project that Moira Queen had dumped on her just a day ago. The woman was out to make her life harder than it already was. Life was not something she liked hard. Hard was a word that went well with other things. Like Oliver Queen. And she was getting distracted, again.

It had been 5 days since the break-in at her home. She had left Stana's house early Sunday morning, not really having caught more than an hour of sleep. Not that she was complaining. To say that she had had an interesting night would be like saying Buffy wasn't kickass, which she totally was. And the interesting quota had just spiked after Oliver had left after ravishing her with his fingers against a tree, of all places. He was really bringing out the brazen in her. Once she had realized that she could still feel his emotions, muted as they were as though a song was playing in a neighbor's house and she could just hear the faint strings, her brain had started coming up with theories and reasons for the phenomenon she had been experiencing. Her mind had been flooded with questions, the most prominent of which had been whether he felt it too, and with the same intensity as she did. How did that work?

She hadn't realized how long she had been pondering upon it when suddenly, a sharp wave of arousal had hit her so hard, she was sure she would have fallen down had she not already been on the bed. Absolutely confused as to what was happening, and how it could happen so soon after she had had a spectacular orgasm, she had let it flow, waiting. And then she had felt it. His arousal. His need. For her. And boy, had it been some need.

She hadn't even realized when her hands had traveled down her body and her eyes had closed, his need coursing through her veins like wildfire. And behind the closed eyes, she had vaguely seen him, fogged behind glass, in the shower, pleasuring himself but thinking about her. And the desire inside her spiked as she felt him want her to do things, and stupid as it felt now, she had talked back, in hopes that he could hear whatever she said. Over the course of a few minutes, they had both climaxed hard, both their wants sated and bodies lethargic, both knowing now the sounds the other made at their peak. 

But it was supremely idiotic of her to think that he had glimpsed back at her just because she had done a peeping Tom routine on him. Not literally. Just in her head. It was just like Destiny to hand her a one-way mirror. Except she could see him. And feel. Did she feel! It had been way better than how she thought sex through Skype would be.

Hardly having any sleep, she had left for her own house, prepared for a Sunday of rampant destruction and sorting out her home. What she had not been prepared for was the absolute anguish she would feel when she stepped into the house, the home she had created for herself with little pieces of her, her safe haven. She was not ashamed to admit that she cried for five minutes before wiping her face and calling the police. Once the cops had come and gone, filing a report, she had called in some cleaners and spent her day removing everything that was beyond repair. Which was a lot.

After that Diggle had shown up, with a warm smile and Chinese take-out and she had just about attacked him in gratitude. And teared up a little at his kindness. He had stayed for a while, arranging the items left unscathed, and installing new locks and security alarm on her doors and windows, and leaving his number with her to use in case of any emergency. She had hugged him and sat down on an armchair with ice-cream.

She hadn't asked him where Oliver had been, figuring out that he might have been dealing with his own stuff but appreciating him sending Diggle over for help. She had texted him with a 'Thank you' and sent him the picture the man had sent her, waiting for his reply. It had never come.

And it was 5 days now, and she hadn't heard a word from him. Nothing. Zip. Nada. 

At the beginning, she did not understand it. Surely he had time for a text. Apparently not. Apparently, he was going back on what he said and reverting to his let's-ignore-Felicity-but-randomly-give-her-amazing-orgasms mode. Which she was not okay with. Not the orgasms, she was very happy with those. But the ignoring part.

Over the 5 days, her confusion had turned to hurt to anger to absolute outrage. And despite the fact that she could very vaguely feel that he was upset, about something, it didn't deter her from her anger at all. Stupid man.

Stewing in her renewed anger, she attacked her keyboard, wishing it was his gorgeous face. No, maybe not his face, his chest. Yup. That could take her beatings well, wide as it was, and muscled. Very, very hard. There was that word again. Hard. Like other things about him.

She looked up at the screen, at the utter gibberish she had typed and scowled. She got up, pocketing her phone and moved towards the coffee maker outside, Moira Queen's project be damned. She was hungry and she was going to eat. That was the end of it.

She was just about to exit her door when she felt her tummy flip again, her heart pittering and pattering in her chest. He was here. And she was pissed.

Walking out with her head high, she saw him enter the IT Department, in his casual black t-shirt that did nothing to hide his hotness, and blue jeans, faltering when he saw her walking. She grit her teeth, mad beyond belief, feeling _his_ slight trepidation in _her_ gut, and turned right back inside. She felt him catching up with her and thanked the gods of office hours that there were no eyes of the employees glued to them. 

"Felicity?" his voice came, hesitant, and if she was correct, a little scared. Good. Let him stew.

She ignored him, and went about looking out the window, not even sparing him a glance. He shuffled on his feet in her periphery. "Look, we should talk."

She took out a chocolate bar from her emergency stash in her bag  and opened it, taking a big bite and not offering him any. She felt his exasperation at her behavior rise slowly, steaming inside him, and hence her. Now that he was close, his emotions were clearer. 

Taking a hold of her arm, sudden dam of emotions bursting through her at the touch, he swung her towards him, taking in her face. She wished now she didn't have her mouth full. Looking like a buffed baboon did nothing to help with the angry image. His eyes roamed her face and it was clear he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. She narrowed her eyes and kept chewing, daring him to say a word. 

He turned to lock the door behind him, giving her his back and from the amusement he felt, she _knew_ the mule-headed male was smiling. But he turned back to her, his face neutral. Had it been anyone else, she would have gotten anxious. Now, she was just annoyed. And her mouth was finally empty, bless her.

"Attempting to repeat past shenanigans in the office, I assume," she droned out, voice tinged with jealousy at those faceless, nameless women. No point going there.

He looked at her, tilting his head. "You're angry."

Felicity widened her eyes dramatically, voice dripping in sarcasm, "No shit, Captain Obvious. Did you get your sleuthing skills watching Sherlock?"

His nose crinkled adorably in confusion and she reminded herself she was angry. And that he was sadly lagging behind in popular culture. Which would have to be corrected very, very soon. It had to be put on his bucket-list. And she doubted he had seen that movie either. Great, great movie. Especially...

"I am sorry. I was caught up with my mother and looking for your intruder," his voice broke her internal ramble as he took a cautious step forward, rubbing her arms up and down, the callouses on his palms catching deliciously on her skin.

She shook off his arms and took a step back as he huffed and sat in her chair, looking up at her. The audacity of him! 

She grit her teeth and opened her mouth. "You have been doing this push and pull, and not the kind I'd like you to do. Stop smirking. I get that we aren't in any relationship or whatever but you could at least have messaged me. But no, you didn't. So go away to doing whatever and stop sending Diggle to check on me, which was a really sweet thing to do by the way, but yeah, do what..."

She stopped when she looked at a black pen drive in his hand. Folding her arm across her chest, she asked, "What is that?"

He picked up the drive, switching it between fingers, and looked up at her innocently. "This is what I was searching for these past few days, so that I could get it to you. A mysterious object for my mystery cracker," he said affectionately.

Her heart melted a little, knowing now, from his earnest face and his earnest emotions, that he really had been in his green mode and hadn't meant to piss her off consciously. No one in their right mind would do that. 

With an unconscious moue, she took the pen drive just as he took her hand, gazing up at her with open honesty. "Am I forgiven?"

She gazed back at him for a moment, biting her lip. Then, in answer, she boldly sat on her desk and leaned down, tilting his neck up by the collar, trapping him on the chair with her legs. "You do something like that again and you won't be," she whispered, looking down at his rapidly heating eyes. "You let me stay on the edge for far too long," 

His thumb brushed her lips, his own perking up. "Sometimes I think you are using me just for the orgasms."

A sudden laugh escaped her throat, her eyes glinting as she looked at him dimpling too. His dimple. 

"Oh I totally am," she flirted back unabashedly. "Orgasms courtesy of you are even better than Cooper in college. I had thought he was the bomb but phew. I stand, or rather sit, corrected. We haven't done the ding dong..."

A wave of envy hit her just as hands suddenly gripped her face, making her look at his turbulent eyes. He was so, so jealous. "Don't talk about other men when your body is screaming for mine," he ground out.

Her chest rose and fell, faster, feeling his possessiveness, his arousal. His eyes flickered down to her rapidly heaving chest, the nipples obviously puckering despite the two layer of clothing. A moment of his hot gaze and her body was thrumming, finely tuned, as she scratched her nails on his scalp and swallowed his answering hiss into her mouth, accosting his tongue with hers. His hands pulled her forward to the edge of the desk and he rolled the chair, her skirt hiking up her thighs completely, his chest pressing against her core as she leaned over him.

This arousal was different, sharper in precision, and sharper in intensity. She already knew their desires were mingling in both their bodies, yet something felt different. She felt like a live wire. He felt like electricity coursing through her veins. With a mewl, she chewed on his lips, feeling more wanton than she ever had, rolling her hips into his chest, the scent of her heat and his natural musk combining into something heady. He pulled back, humming against her swollen lips, his own stung, then changed the angle of the kiss, penetrating her mouth with a ferocity that only he could accomplish.

"We shouldn't do this here," she murmured, eyes closed as he kissed his way to her breasts, through her blue shirt. 

"Mmm-hmm," he hummed against a nipple, the bud tightening in response, her core clenching in need.

"Oliver...aah... I'm serious," she panted against his magical mouth, that had no intention of stopping by the feel of it. Oh, what a feel!

"Me too." He went on worshiping her skin, littering small kisses everywhere, the layer of clothing rubbing against her skin and turning her on more.

She took a deep breath and pushed him away, looking at him sternly over her crooked glasses. "I am not coming again without you. Next time, you and me, mutual orgasming. Not that I mind the way you make me come. It's splendid. But next time, I want to know how good it feels having you inside me. And I didn't mean that like... actually I did mean that like how it sounded. I'm so used to correcting my faux pas that I didn't realize I actually wanted to talk dirty to you. This is such a lol moment."

Oliver had vacated her chair and gone near the windows, the tent in his jeans so, so obvious, and so, so tempting. Having never actually gone down on a guy, his bulge looked so very, very tempting. She licked her lips. 

Oliver growled, "You need to stop doing that if you don't want to come all over your desk."

She gulped. "And you need to stop using that bedroom voice in you expect me to stop. Jeez."

They stared at each other from across the room, both holding the obvious evidence of their arousal, for minutes or seconds, she didn't know. Oliver clenched his hands, then clenched his jaw, and she watched in fascination, wanting nothing more than to bite it, then soothe it with her tongue.

"Oh, fuck it!" he crossed the space between them again just as his phone rang. He froze. She waited. After the second ring, he sighed and picked it up, closing his eyes, calling for control.

"Digg. Yes. When? I'm on my way."

He hung up and opened his eyes, the heat still present, cackling, but tamed. "I have to go."

She smiled slightly. "No worries. I assumed Diggle knows about your other you? If that made sense?"

His lips tilted. "Yes, he knows."

"I'd like to see it too," she nodded, then slapped her forehead. "And by 'it' I mean your base of operations. Not that I'd mind the other 'it' so much. I'd love it too. Later. Soon. Sometime. Oh, boy!"

Coming forward with a grin, he cupped her face. "I'd like to show 'it' to you."

He leaned forward and plundered her mouth, hard and fast, before winking and leaving the office. 

"Go do your arrow-ing," she mumbled after him, the butterflies in her tummy dancing a sophisticated tango. "I'll do my computer-ing."

Taking the pen drive from the desk, she took a seat and plugged it in, waiting while her computer searched for its firewalls. 

A list of firewalls appeared. She cracked her knuckles and got to work.

 

                                                            -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Her mind was whirling with the information Oliver had unknowingly gotten for her to find. Oh, it was _big_. It was after midnight and she was still in the office, sitting stunned, staring at the screen, her disbelief warring with dread. Closing her eyes, calming herself down enough, she picked up her phone and made a call. It rang and rang and rang before the familiar voice of her mother came on the other line.

"Hey honey," she mumbled sleepily. Felicity felt bad for waking her up like this but this was important. 

"Mom," Felicity started without preamble. "What did Dad do for work?"

Her mom paused on the other line, clearly awake now. "Why do you ask, honey? Baby, is something wrong? You're calling so late."

"Mom, just tell me, please," Felicity muttered, pinching her nose.

"Well, he used to travel extensively. Hardly stayed home," her mother began, confusion evident in her voice. "He was into applied science, I think. That is where you also get it from."

"You know where he used to work?" Felicity asked, hoping against hope her mother did not say what she thought she would.

"Hmm, I don't remember exactly. It was so long ago," her mother huffed on a laugh. "Some Uninor Industries."

Felicity breathed a sigh of relief that was cut short as her mother screeched in excitement, "Oh no, no! It was Unidac Industries, not Uninor."

Felicity slapped a hand on her mouth, mumbling a hurried, "Okay, Mom. Gotta go. Love you. Bye," and hanging up.

She let out a loud exhale like she did when she did yoga, which was once in a blue moon and let her brain work. Why was she the one to find things that didn't want to be found? The light from the city's skyline twinkled in the distance. The city. It needed saving.

Okay. So, things were really bad. And she had to talk to Oliver. ASAP. She could seduce him later but _this_ was way serious than she could have ever thought. 

Her hand hovered on the screen with his picture before she touched it. She dialed and hoped that he answered, that she wasn't disturbing him while he was running around, or worse, fighting some low life criminal. He did. On the second ring. And Felicity opened her mouth before he could even greet.

"So, I cracked the pen drive you gave me, yay me. And I need to tell you things. Things you didn't know about me."

After a pause, he said softly, "Felicity..."

She hurried on. "Look, this is not me being romantic, which I would love to be especially after our hot make-out. I'm putting that aside by the way, for now, not letting you off the hook. No, what I meant was that you need to know something about me because it's related to what is on the pen drive and it's really, _really bad,_  like pandas-are-extinct type of bad. Which is really bad. At least in my opinion. You'll have to decide which animal extinction this equates in your books. I really don't think you are a panda type of guy though..."

"Felicity. Pen drive?" he interrupted.

She took a deep breath. "Yes. Where are we meeting? And not my house, because you and me, alone in my house is not something we need right now."

"Are you still at QC?" he asked, ignoring her other words.

She nodded then realized he couldn't see her. "Yup," she said, popping the 'p'.

"Okay. Come to Verdant. I'll meet you outside."

He hung up before she could respond. Nice phone etiquette. 

She hurriedly got up and picked up her coat, stashing the pen drive in her bag and finally leaving the building, her feet clicking loudly on the concrete. She got in her car, reversing it out of the lot, and took the road for the Glades, the traffic light at this time of the night. Which was why, about a mile later, when she looked in the rear-view, she could pick up a black sedan trailing after her. The hair on her nape tickled and she slowed the car. The other car slowed too. 

Oh, frack. She was scared. And she should be. She was normal like that.

Heart thumping, she removed a hand from the wheel and got her phone out, calling Oliver and putting him on loudspeaker. 

He picked up on the first ring. "You're already here?" his question was full of surprise.

"No," her voice shook slightly.

He paused. "What's wrong?"

"Someone is following me."

" _What?"_   he roared. A sudden shuffling noise came and he spoke, urgent. "Tell me exactly where you are. I'm on my way."

She glanced at the rear-view, and the car was not just following her anymore, it was coming after her, it's speed increasing every second. Shit. With a shriek, she hit the accelerator, and tried to stop her hands from shaking.

"Felicity!" Oliver's voice came from the speaker, dulled by the noise of a motorbike.

Yeah. Answer. He wanted an answer. Answering was good. "I'm at the corner of 5th and Minehurst. Just crossing."

"Good. I'll see you in five minutes." His voice was sharp, controlled. She could imagine him racing across the streets, whizzing on his bike, jaw clenched.

Her eyes flickered to the rear-view once more and she swallowed. "Umm, Oliver?"

"Yeah?" 

"The car isn't just following me. It's speeding up," she stated, letting the realization hang in the air, cackling between them.

The motor bike roared, the speed obviously spiking dangerously, but she didn't worry. Adrenaline was his spirit friend. 

His calm voice cut through the loaded silence. "Just keep coming towards the club. I'll be there in two minutes."

The car was almost upon her now. And her poor baby Mini did not have it in her to speed anymore. It was already on its last limb. From the looks of it, Felicity's logical brain told her, she was going to get hit and hit _hard_. The gradual realization spread a wave of calm over her, which she knew was absurd, but she also knew she would be alright. She would get injured, maybe more than she thought, but she wouldn't die. Oliver was coming for her.

With a deep breath, Felicity opened her mouth, and spoke, only slightly scared now that she knew she would only be wounded and Oliver would save her, "Oliver, listen to me."

"Felicity, I'm almost there. You can tell me whatever you want to in person!" his hard voice grit out.

She continued, like he hadn't spoken. "Take the pen drive from the side pocket of my bag at all costs, before the police finds it."

" _God damn it!_ Feli..."

"Take it. I have decrypted it so you would be able to see whatever if I can't explain."

"Will you just shut up?" his voice wavered a little.

The car was coming at her like a hurricane. She took a deep breath, and took the only chance she might get, eyes closing in belief in him. 

"I love you, Oliver."

It hit, harder than she had thought, the impact sending her car screeching forward onto the empty road. A yell left her before she could stop it.

She tried to take control of the vehicle, and tried to ignore the way her knees hurt, her eyes widening when she saw the black sedan come at her again, hitting her little baby with so much force that she went careening into the side this time, flipping, toppling to the ground. The car cart-wheeled and stopped, inverted, with her trapped inside it. 

"Felicity?"

She heard Oliver's frantic voice coming from the speaker, but her mouth refused to open. Vision starting to swim, she slowly touched her forehead and felt the sticky wetness on the scalp. She felt her fear, mingled with his own.

"Felicity! Felicity! Answer me, damn it!"

His voice was getting angrier, more frightened, and try as she might, her mouth refused to budge. She wanted to close her eyes now, and try not so hard anymore, just rest for a minute. 

"Felicity! Baby, say something! Please!"

She spluttered, blood spilling from her mouth. He was close. She could feel it.

" _FELICITY!_ "

She blinked groggily, managing a small croak that hurt her throat, before she slowly slipped into nothingness, her body aching and her ears ringing, the last thing she heard being his panicked voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think?
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	14. Crazy Loops in Angst Fest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!  
> I'm really overwhelmed by the response to the last chapter and I apologize for the shock, but well, had to be done. :)  
> Another chapter done. The plot moves on. :)
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> Happy reading!!!

The throb in her head was a bitch. No, it was _the_ bitch. It felt like her brain was pounding from inside her skull to get out. She tried to move her hand to touch her head but a sudden pain shot through her shoulder, a croak escaping her mouth.

"Felicity?"

Her eyes were glued shut like someone had poured Crazy glue on it, like that bully in her high school had tried to once. After a small battle of wills with her lashes, who surrendered in the face of her wrathful mental threats, opened slowly. The bright lights hurt like a bigger bitch than the one in her head. She turned her neck slowly, feeling like absolute, utter shit and she wanted to curse every bone in her body for remodeling itself without her permission.

She saw Diggle come forward, looking at her with concerned eyes. She must look like a baby alien if his concern was anything to go by.

"I'll restart the meds," he said softly, pressing a button beside her head.  

A million pinpricks attacked her body, before something cool gushed through her veins. Adjusting slowly into the soft bed, which now that she thought about it, was too soft for a hospital, she licked her dry mouth.

Diggle held up a straw, letting her sip enough to wet her throat, then stepped back.

"How do you feel?" he asked, turning back to her, typing something on his phone.

Felicity tried to sit up but fell back with a groan. He came and pushed another button, raising the back half of the bed, getting her into a sitting position.

She spoke, her voice coming out hoarse and foreign. "Like I went five rounds with a wall without even cracking a dent into it."

Digg chuckled. "You tried." His face got somber then. "You're lucky enough that Oliver reached you when he did. Apart from the broken ribs, and the concussion, you bled out pretty fast."

Felicity shivered, suddenly remembering the accident. No, the hit and run with intent. She looked around the plush room, taking in the sofa set in the corner, the muted, warm lights, and the comfortable bed. "Where is he?"

Her question was met with Digg shaking his head. "He went out."

Felicity raised her eyebrows. Or well, she tried to. Her brain slapped her forehead back into submission. Violent baby that it was. "And the award for cryptic answer of the year should go to you. I thought Oliver had that market cornered."

Diggle smiled at her, like she would at a cute little pug flopping her ears. Felicity cleared her head of the lull that was spreading over it. " Did he get the pen drive? And what happened to the other car? Tell me what I have missed."

His mouth pursed, as he sighed. "Well, Oliver took the pen drive and got you here as fast as he could. The police came for questioning but you were being treated so we told them it was an accident. They are going to investigate. The other car was getting away when Oliver got there. He put a tracer on it. There are a few leads but I'll let him talk to you about it. Oh, and your friend was here earlier. So were Tommy, and Thea."

Digesting in all the information, she felt surprise flickered through her at that, eyeing the flowers beside her bed. "They came to see me? I mean, Stana I get. But Tommy and Thea? They came with gifts?"

Diggle shrugged. "You are important to Oliver. They know that."

She let that pass, the silence between them thoughtful before she suddenly looked at him. "Wait, how long have I been here?"

Diggle sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. Uh-oh. "Three days. You were out of it. The concussion was bad."

"I'd say," she muttered. The medication was starting to have it's effect, making her head swim a little. She shook her head to focus it, and regretted it just as soon.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, her voice getting slightly high.

Diggle smirked, like he knew exactly what was happening to her already faulty brain. "I'm here when Oliver isn't."

She blinked. "Cryptic answer number two. It doesn't tell me a lot. Well, why would it? It's _cryptic_."

She looked at Digg again, suddenly feeling like she was floating, high on oxygen. "You know you have really, really tree trunky arms. I thought you were the Hulk the first time I saw you. But then I realized that green in Oliver's thing." She giggled uncontrollably, at that. A part of her brain, which was still functioning, told her this was weird behavior. But she marched ahead. Well, verbally. Her body didn't like any kind of marching. Not that it could do any. "You march?" she asked Digg. "You are really huge. I would totally do you if I didn't want to hump your boss' brain out. Well, he's my boss too. Not technically but in a way. It puts a spin on office romance, doesn't it? His name is on the side of the building. I like his name. Do you like his name? I think I'll like screaming it too. I don't think you would. You two have a good bromance thing going on but he's mine okay, so stay away from him. Except don't. You're his bodyguard. I like you, Digg. I like your name too. Though I don't want to scream it. But your name is so solid. Digg. _DIGG_."

She looked at him again, her head lolling slightly. He was smiling wide, just letting her talk, indulging her.

"Your full name reminds me of that song. Wiggle wiggle. Diggle diggle. It'll be so funny to see you dance like that!"

Her giggles turned into snorts of laughter, tears escaping her eyes, the man beside her chuckling just as the door to the room flew open. She grinned wide, watching Oliver's wild eyes find hers. He straightened, striding straight to her just as she tilted her head a little to look at him. Swooping down, he took her face gently in his huge, huge palms and kissed her right on the mouth. Her body was already swimming and adding the flux of his emotions, intense emotions was making her head spin. But he had a really nice mouth. Very skilled. And particularly skilled at kissing her. And big hands. What did they say about a man's hand and his junk? Ooh.

He didn't kiss her deep, just on the lips, but repeatedly, over and over again, as though reassuring himself that her face was still in his hands. Where else would it be? She liked the position between his palms and under his mouth just fine. After minutes or seconds of kissing her, just kissing her, he finally pulled back, sitting on the space beside her leg on the bed, and just gazed at her.

A throat cleared, and she looked at Diggle, giggling again. "Why do you always interrupt us just when things are getting interesting?"

Oliver's eyebrows rose up and Diggle shook his head, getting up from his chair and clapping Oliver on the shoulder. "She's loopier than Crazy Loops."

Oliver's mouth turned up as he looked at her again, and Diggle left, shutting the door behind him.

Felicity blinked at him, perusing his form, then wolf-whistled as she took in his appearance. "Why do you always look so hot? I literally want to strip you and then proceed to try out my list with you."

"You have a list?" he asked, raising a brow again. She could feel his relief and amusement mingling in her veins through his hands.

She huffed in indignation. "Of course I have a list. You think only you have the right to have a list. You take out your arrow fetish on your list. I write out my fetishes on mine. And the list has grown longer than my arm since I met you."

Oliver tilted his head to the side, examining her. "And what does this list have?"

Felicity grinned, knowing she was too out of it, and frankly not caring. She was enjoying herself. "I'll tell you that after you strip naked."

Oliver grinned too, pushing her hair away from her face, his eyes lingering on her head as his face darkened.

Felicity slapped his arm, and he looked at her in surprise. "No, no. Don't become Angsty Oliver. i can't handle the angst right now. I like flirting. It's good to my insides."

"Angsty Oliver?" he asked curiously, ignoring everything else she said.

She smirked. "Oh yes. Flirty Oliver, Sexy Oliver, Dimply Oliver, Possessive Oliver, Let's-ravish-Felicity-and-give-her-amazing-orgasms Oliver. Lots of Olivers."

Oliver chuckled, shaking his head. "And which is your favorite?"

There was silence for a moment. Felicity blinked owlishly at him, not really understanding the question. Her brain was slowing down. Then it hit her, and holding his hand, she understood, smiling. "Oliver. Just Oliver." 

Oliver's looked taken aback, before something moved in his eyes. He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers, his hand holding hers, as he closed his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, his emotions running through her body. 

This big dumb idiot actually felt disbelief that she would love him just for him? He actually felt undeserving?

She bumped his head with hers, a low throb telling her she would regret the action later. His eyes opened. 

She pecked his nose. "You goofball, stop being so melodramatic. If you can survive me with my mouth, I can love you for you. And that reminds me, I really want to go down on you."

Sudden laughter burst out of him, his eyes so so soft on hers that it made her gut clench. "My little sex monkey," he murmured, ruffling her hair. "Get better and we'll explore that list of yours too."

Felicity bounced slightly in her bed, excited beyond belief, but her mind shutting down slowly. "Okay. Now, I'm sleepy."

Oliver pressed some hidden button and her bed went horizontal again, as she held on to the last vestiges of consciousness. "Oliver?"

"Yeah?" 

"Will you be here when I wake up this time?"

He paused in tucking her blanket around her, his eyes looking at her face, before he pressed his lips to her forehead, etching his words into her skin. "I'll be here."

Satisfied, with a smile, Felicity closed her eyes, and let sleep take her.

 

                                                                --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was dark, very dark. The road was empty and her heart was thundering inside her chest, the pain and fear in her gut almost forcing her to her knees. She looked at the knees and realized she was dreaming, again. She was in Oliver's dream, again. She saw her own car, flipped, up ahead through his eyes. It looked worse than she had thought it did. His lungs were burning as he ran towards the car. She could feel every breath in his veins as she stood in his place and saw everything.

" _Felicity?_ "

His trembling voice came out, followed by his trembling hand as he leaned on the ground and checked her unconscious body for a pulse. There was not any. The panic in his veins inflamed her senses, his frantic efforts getting to her, becoming too much for her brain.

 

She woke with a jerk. This time she won the battle with her glued lashes. The room was dark, with only the moonlight drifting through the window, and some light coming from under the door. She looked sideways, at the man who was so haunted in his own mind, still trapped in the nightmare. His face was screwed up tight, his head shaking slightly.

She placed a hand on his head, which was resting on his arms on the bed beside her leg, and ran her fingers through his hair soothingly, ignoring the ache in her shoulder. He jerked a little in his sleep at her touch and she started murmuring quiet words to him, trying to get him out of his own hell.

"Shh, Oliver. Wake up, baby. I'm right here. I'm okay. Shh."

Slowly, she watched in fascination, as one by one, his muscles relaxed, like her voice was calming him down, until his face cleared completely of all remnants of his dream. She still kept running her fingers through his hair and ignored her bladder which was doing rumba to get her attention. It could dance some more, but she had to stay here for now.

After a few minutes, Oliver's eyes opened, his body instantly going on alert as his eyes shot to her, scanning her from head to toe, then relaxing. His breathing slowed down.

He yawned a little, and she felt his own surprise at the gesture through where they still touched, and her heart clenched at the innocent action. Did he ever relax enough to just allow himself the luxury of a simple yawn?

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

His sleep roughened voice was definitely the Bedroom Voice of the Decade. Clearly. She started to take her hand back but he snatched it, running his thumb over her knuckles. 

She swallowed, fire shooting through her veins. "I liked watching you sleep." Pause. "That did not sound so creepy in my head."

His dimple appeared on his cheek and she stared at him unabashedly, taking in the the way the moonlight cast his features into shadows, but still bathed him in white. His beautiful jaw, which was scruffier than she remembered, worked. His eyes darkened a little. "Felicity, you need to stop looking at me like that."

She blinked, her other hand moving to push up glasses that weren't there instinctively. "Like what?"

His eyes drilled into hers. "Like you want me to get in that bed with you and proceed with what I have in mind."

The beeping in the room spiked, mortifying her, as her heart beat picked up. His gaze moved to the machine, a devilish smile appearing on his face. Oh boy. That smile. That smile had scored the gazillion girls into his bed once upon a time. It was a panty-dropping smile. And she would shamelessly have dropped hers had she been wearing any.

"Your state of undress isn't helping me any, Felicity," he muttered, his hand doing something on her palm that was making her heady. "You need to heal first."

She cursed under her breath at her broken brain-mouth filter. They stared at each other, feeling the growing desire, when Felicity's brain decided she had to be mortified some more again.

"I need to pee."

She clenched her eyes shut. Could she ever _not_ be awkward and not break a perfectly awesome moment? Who said something like that when they were having eye-sex? Oh, wait, she did. 

A sudden yelp escaped her as she felt him get up and remove a few wires from her body, lifting her up like she did not weigh like a woman who ate too much ice-cream. He had just lifted her up like in the movies. Her eyes widened at his strength and a part of her was very turned on. More turned on because now it was pressed into him, feeling his own desire swirling through her, along with his affection. With one hand under her knee, the other under her back, he cradled her and turned towards the door. She held his shoulders, resting her head on his chest and allowed her mind to stop spinning from the sudden movement, so she could enjoy the feeling of being carried. But the dang door traveled forward perhaps to interrupt her state of bliss.

"Will you manage? I can call a nurse," he whispered, depositing on her feet.

She held onto his arms, gaining her balance, waiting for the world to stop spinning, and shook her head, before realizing that was a very bad idea. "No nurse. You stay here. But don't come in. That is a kink I don't think I'll ever be comfortable with. And you didn't need to know that."

She held the doorjamb as he huffed out a small laugh, and entered the posh bathroom, shutting the door but not locking it in case she fainted. She didn't want to faint. Because then she wouldn't be awake to feel his arms as he carried her. And what arms he had.

With a little support from the wall, she managed to finish her business and walked in front of the mirror, to wash her face with cold water. Dabbing the cool liquid, and wiping it, she finally looked at herself and a gasp left her.

"Felicity?" Oliver's concerned voice came instantly from the other side of the door.

She gulped. "I'm okay," her voice shook slightly.

There was a pause before he let out a crisp, "I'm coming in" and opened the door.

Their eyes locked. She looked at him in the mirror, and then at herself. She looked like she'd taken a dip in a purple paint box. A bandage covered her head, her chin and cheek bruised an ugly purple, scratches littering the entire area of her face and her arms and her neck. Her hair hung dully and lifelessly. She pulled her lips in, then pouted unintentionally.

"I look like a drowned raccoon!"

She saw Oliver's lips tilt a little and pointed a finger at his reflection. "Don't you dare!"

He bit the inside of his cheek obviously, stepping behind her and brushing her hair aside, planting a soft kiss on her neck, his eyes on hers in the reflection. "You're beautiful."

Her eyes teared up at his tender, genuine words, not knowing why she was feeling so emotional, and Oliver slowly turned her around, pulling her into his arms, being careful of her ribs, as she hiccuped, the emotional turmoil inside her threatening to burst. Since the break-in, it had been building up and the pressure was slowly reaching its peak, coming apart at the seams.

And then she felt it, seeping into her from his body, mute waves calm and reassurance, all for her. His body, his soul, was doing exactly what she had done that night at his office in the club. It was telling her that she was not alone. It was closing the seams and telling her he was right there. She burrowed deeper into his chest, mumbling, "I want to lie down."

But before he could reply, she remembered his nightmare, and asked with a somber voice. "You have the pen drive?"

Oliver's arms tightened a little. "Yes. And I have questions, but they can wait. You need to rest." 

"Okay. I want to lie down," she agreed.

In answer, he picked her up again bridal style, and carried her out into the room. She let her hand trace his jaw, marveling at the scruff that was more, liking the way it tingled her palm. She liked the way his arms felt too. And maybe it was stupid, but it made her feel really, really special. No one had ever carried her like this.

Oliver's quiet voice interrupted her thoughts. "I'll carry you whenever you want."

Her eyes grew big as she swallowed. "Your arms will hurt after two minutes."

He placed her gently on the bed. She could not believe this was the same man who had ravished her roughly on her kitchen counter. It had been hot, though. His gentleness, but, touched a chord in her. He answered her, fluffing her pillows. "I'll show you the salmon ladder some day. That should answer it."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Salmon ladder? Sounds delicious, whatever it is."

A twitch of his lips, followed by twinkling blue eyes met her remark. "I'll let you be the judge of that."

Slowly, settling her in the blankets, he sat down in the chair again, pressing the button for her pain medication. She looked around the room, as the cool medicine entered her veins. "Why is this hospital room so nice?"

He settled back, leaning into his own cushions, replying. "This is our family's suite. We fund a wing in the hospital."

Huh? She would have been less surprised if he had started doing monkey dance. Well, not true. She didn't think he ever did the monkey dance. She doubted he even knew what it was. But the sudden image in her head had her giggling again. 

His head tilted, eyes on hers, his lips turning up. "Do I want to know?"

She shook her head, giggling still. The image was just not leaving. 

Oliver just kept looking at her with his quiet intensity and she blushed, feeling conscious suddenly. Her eyes lowered to their joined hands, her cheeks getting warmer, when he suddenly broke the silence.

"You're okay to leave tomorrow. I'd like you to come with me."

His words. She suddenly burst into giggles again. "I'd love to _come_ with you." Oh boy. Her brain was going out of it really fast.

Clicking his tongue at her, he shook his head in amusement. "I meant stay with me, at the mansion."

Sobering slightly, only slightly, she sniggered. "No."

He frowned, his handsome face scrunching a little. "Why? There is more than enough space, there is security, there are people who will take care of you. And I'll be there."

He actually said that like that explained everything. She sighed. Well, she would have if she could stop the snickers. Gah, she hated this medication.

"Oliver, I work at QC. I can't stay at my boss' house and I won't. Plus, your mom would not appreciate my presence. She'd rather skewer me to be honest. Oh my, does she even know you spend so much time with me? That would make her flip so bad. Oh, I'd like to see that. At least her hair would move. What do you think she does on her hair? You think she'd tell me if I asked? My hair moves like tiny snakes. Not that I'm Medusa. You'd be stoned if I was. Not stoned like..."

Her voice trailed off at the way he was biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"You're enjoying my mouth, aren't you?"

He lost it. Sudden guffaws left him as he leaned against the chair, laughing like there was no tomorrow, the sound raw and rough and not at all sophisticated. Felicity just stared and stared, her heart swelling with love, her mouth grinning. After a few minutes of chortling, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm so taking you home."

"I'm not.."

He put a finger on her mouth, silencing her. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

The finger traced her lips, outlining them but her mind was slowly blanking out again, drugged. "Okay," she assented, mumbling. Her head lolled on the pillow. "You came for me. I knew you would."

"I'll always come for you," he whispered with such pretty blue eyes, holding her hand, making designs on it with his rough thumb.

She smiled, her eyes closing, mind completely nutty. "You came. I think I hit the destiny jackpot of soulmates. You're my soulmate. It sounds so weird but I wouldn't have anyone else for a soulmate now. Not ever. Just you."

His thumb stopped moving. "Soulmate?"

Felicity went on, completely on her own tangent, aware in some corner of the mind that this was going too far, that she should hit the breaks maybe, that his hand was tightening over her hand. But she was too far gone.

"Yup. Soulmates. I didn't believe in them at all. Ms. N used to go on and on about my jiji, no, juju. Yeah. But, I didn't believe her, not until that weird feeling in my tummy when I saw you spying on Adorable Tommy and Gorgeous Laurel. I'll hug Tommy when I see him. He came to visit. That was so sweet of him. And Thea too. I'll hug her too. I'll hug everyone. But then Tommy is a guy, and my skin will do the weird thing it does with any guy except you. You know..."

"Felicity. Soulmates?" his voice came from somewhere afar. That was weird. His hand was still holding hers. She shrugged mentally and went on.

"Yeah, soulmates. You are mine. I knew after that falling feeling. And then your dreams started and the pull and knowing what you feel, and the intense orgasms, and then that night in your shower. So many things. Just between you and me..."

She felt his lips on her hand, pressing small kisses on her fingers and palm, and content, she went into unconsciousness again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think?
> 
> Check out my Bratva fic too, if you haven't. It's called The Phoenix.
> 
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	15. Fluffy Beds and Patent Looks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> Thank you for the phenomenal response to this story! You are the best, as always. :)
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE- I've made a schedule for updates to avoid going insane in juggling two stories and to let you know for sure when to anticipate an update. So, this story will be update every MONDAY and THURSDAY, twice a week. :)
> 
> Here's the next chapter! Soulmate talks and the pen drive mystery unravels a little. Enjoy!
> 
> Drop me a line to tell me your thoughts. Kudos and comments, guys! :)
> 
> Happy reading!!!

Felicity sat in the plush bed, literally sinking inside the fluffy mattress, drowning in the cloud of marshmallows, floating above the white sheets. Yeah, well, the point was clear. She was happy in that bed of frothy happiness, and she would have rolled and rolled and rolled if her ribs had allowed it. This was like the bed of her dreams. The kind of bed you never fell off no matter how much you rolled because it just never ended. The kind of bed that made her want to squeal like a four-year old with pigtails and jump and bounce on the cushiony cushions. The kind of bed that was made for all sorts of activities. She mentally wiggled her eyebrows, and winced. Ouch. Her head was hurt too. Reminder.

It was around 8 in the night. In the morning, she had been completely outweighed by both Diggle and Oliver who had given her blank faces and their patent stop-being-ridiculous-we-have-our-tank-arms-crossed-and-we-are-distracting-your-arguments-with-muscles posture. It had been so similar, in fact, that she had burst out laughing, and actually asked them if they had gone to some special, secret Broody School for the Stubborn Males sort of institution to have patented that. At that, they had both given her same twitched lips and exasperated shake of heads, shaking in sync, and mirroring each other so much that she had pointed that out and promptly burst into a fit of giggles again.

But she hadn't won that argument. She frankly hadn't had the energy. So here she was, in her personal room in the guest wing of the Queen Mansion, twiddling her thumbs with boredom. But then again, she was medicated, though not like in the hospital, but enough to be buzzed enough not to do any work. At all. Everything except her phone had been confiscated by Diggle upon arrival but she hadn't minded since Thea had kept her company for the day. The only people to call her had been Stana, whose concern had transitioned into that tone where Felicity had cut the call (hint- it had to do with her guest room a week ago and one manly piece of Queen) and her mother, whom she had just told it was a minor accident and she was staying over at a friend's. Ms. N had called too, the smile in her voice sending her very Yoda-like vibes, as she had told her to take care and keep Oliver close.

And that was a hardship. The man's hormones swung more than, well, a pendulum that swung a lot. He had been by her side since morning, but she had felt the small chasm between them, him withdrawing, down in her bones. And she was sick of it. Enough was enough. What sort of signal was he giving her, pulling her so close she could evaporate just from his proximity, then pushing her so far like he had never pulled her in the first place. It was confusing and annoying and a degree of baffling she had not been privy to. And she was so so done with his shit. But his bed was so frigging awesome!

She sunk lower in the plush mattress, content after the amazing dinner the Russian lady Raisa had provided, painless due to her meds, and way too happy to be in a house where Moira Queen lived and Walter had been kidnapped from. Speaking of, she didn't know how the Queen matriarch had taken the news of her presence in the house. She doubted she would be on the Christmas list if it were up to that devious lady. Not that it mattered because she was Jewish. But she didn't put a damper on other people's Christmas spirits. Live and let live. Yay Free Will and all. Which was ironic considering she had Destiny looming over her head like that one time she had had mistletoe dangling above her and a smelly Ryan Brown at the high school Christmas party. It was safe to say she had never talked her way out of a situation faster than that and that was saying something. Had it been Oliver Queen, phew. 

She fanned herself. Push pull aside, the man was sex on legs. And though she doubted he had been nice in school, if his history was any indication at all, maybe Destiny would still have made her climb him like a tree. Now there was a thought. Nodding and smirking to herself, happy in her buzzed mind and images of his rock-hard abs, she didn't mind the distance between them she felt in her gut. Well, she did, but she was loopy enough not to care. For now.

The door was knocked twice and she spoke in a high pitched voice for the person to enter, when Tommy Merlyn stuck his head inside, looking at her with his patent smirk on his face. What was it with guys and patenting expressions?

"How are you doing, my lady?" he entered, walking across the rug she knew cost more than her wardrobe, his fake British accent so thick it made her giggle.

He sat beside her on the fluffy bed, facing her and smiled. "You gave us a scare, little lady. Don't do it again."

She pouted. "But I like Oliver's bed. And the only way I seem to get here is by giving scares. Not that I'm scary enough to be in a horror movie or anything. I think I would only be scary to the PR people. If I ever went into Hollywood that is. You think the beds there are this nice? It's not technically Oliver's bed but it's still his brand you know. All warm and soft. But he is always hard."

Tommy choked on laughter, his eyes crinkling. "Too much information about the status of my best friend, sweetheart."

Felicity blinked then laughed. "Oh, I didn't mean hard like that. Although he is hard like that too around me. Quite a lot actually. It would be disturbing if it wasn't so arousing. In fact there was this one time..."

Tommy covered his ears and started singing Beyonce songs, and his voice was actually so nice that she leaned back in the lose T-shirt Thea had given her, her legs crossed and covered in the sea of blankets and cushions. Once she was listening enraptured, he winked and finished "Come closer, closer now. Closer now ow ow ow ow..."

Felicity clapped her hands, grinning at his pseudo-lecherous tone. "You sing really well, Mr. Merlyn. I am impressed."

"Why, thank you, Ms. Smoak. I aim to please," he said in the same fake Brit accent, then leaned in, wiggling his eyebrows. "My aims can be very tasteful too. Want to try?"

Her gut tightened, the sudden churning sensation burning her from the inside and she felt exasperated. Really?  When was this going to stop taking her by surprise?

On cue, Oliver's voice came from the door where he leaned, curt and straight. "I think you've sung enough, Tommy."

Tommy's grin went full watt and he leaned forward, whispering in Felicity's ear so only she could hear. "I love to rile him up. Just play along and laugh. It might even get you a hard Ollie."

She flushed at her previous ramble, but played along as he asked. He was not the only one who could do the push and pull thingy. Plus she knew Tommy was harmless. So she laughed a little, her smile natural, and her gut churned harder. He was on edge. Good. And she was being a bad guest but whatever.

"Well, I did more than just sing, Ollie," Tommy commented, winking again at her. "There was even the word 'hard' and 'bed' thrown in somewhere."

Oliver's eyes narrowed, in understanding of how Tommy was trying to goad him and he leaned his hip against the door frame, his eyes glinting with the challenge. His gaze roved over Felicity, scanning her from head to toe, and coming to fix on her eyes before he smirked his playboy-smirk and looked at his friend. 

"Really?" he asked in a jovial voice. "I think I'm pretty sure of the context of those words."

Felicity turned pink, her skin warming, feeling his challenge in her body. "Don't be so cocky. You are not the only person I sexually objectify in my head, which I know is not a right thing to do, but dang it's my head. I can sexualize anyone!"

"Oh yes, I agree," Tommy piped up, just watching the two of them, eyes switching from on to the other like watching a tennis match. Well, it was a match. not the kind of horizontal match, or even vertical, or hell diagonal match that she would like to participate in with Mr. Sassy Pants over by the door, but it was a match nonetheless.

Oliver tilted his head in his patent move, raising his brow. He really had to find newer expressions. Her catalog of The Possible Expressions in Possession of Oliver Queen was still on page five. And she was so so weird for actually thinking of that. Huh. Anyways, back to him, he was still like that. "I know anyone can but you can't."

She frowned slightly. "Really?" she echoed.

Tommy interrupted. "Well, I think the lady can do whatever, or whoever she pleases."

Oliver cocked his eyebrow high. "And I think it's time for you to be on your merry way."

Tommy staggered back dramatically, a hand on his chest, eyes wide. "You would kick me out of this house, for this cupcake? Is that what our friendship has come to?"

Oliver just stared back neutrally, shrugging in an unapologetic manner. Felicity giggled.

Tommy turned to her. "It's a good thing I like you, babe. Or I would be very offended."

He placed a hand on her bare arm and her skin reacted. Not visibly, but it felt like every cell in the area of contact jumped back from his touch. The same way it had at the club, only way more intense. She couldn't even enjoy any other man's touch now? Her discomfort apparently was too apparent.

She heard Oliver's voice come from close by, the levity from earlier completely gone, his voice low and hard. "Hands off, Tommy."

Tommy's surprised eyes flicked to his friend as he raised his hands in defense. "Jeez, Ollie. Since when did you get offended like this?"

Felicity looked between the two, not wanting this to be any reason of tension between them. She grit her teeth and placed a hand on Tommy's, squeezing it slightly, her body shying away violently from the touch and spoke in a calmer voice. "Don't mind him. You know how he growls at times. But I do need to sleep now."

Tommy looked at her for a split second longer, before getting up and smiling, squeezing back her hand. "Take care, Felicity. I hope this grouch doesn't give you a 'hard' time."

Felicity grinned back, happy that the tension had dissipated. "Don't count on it."

With a wave and an arm punch at Oliver, Tommy left, shutting the door behind them, encasing them in loaded silence. After a few seconds of it, she lay down on the bed, turning to the window and giving him her back in anger. He could bite her ass for all she was worth. Figuratively. Well, she wouldn't mind him doing that literally too. She wouldn't be surprised if Ass Biter was pulled out of his sexual armoire. But would that turn her on? She laughed at herself. The horndog that she was around him, he could be commentating on a game in Latin wearing a burlap sack and she would want to do him. This bed also felt like it could handle all the doing. She would probably be sandwiched between the soft feathers and hard flesh. There was that word again. Hard. No. What was hard was her not being able to move much due to her ribs. But they could always have mind sex. And what the hell was wrong with her? She was mad at him!

She felt him shuffle on his feet before inhaling deeply. "Why are you ignoring me this time?"

Her anger spiked. Aw, hell. He had to have it. "Why were you?"

"I wasn't," she could hear the frown in his voice. Unable to resist seeing his expression, she was cataloging it after all, she turned towards him, groaning a little at the pain, which was just a twinge thanks to her medication. 

"You're seriously going to pull the puppy dog card on me?"

"Will it work?" he had the gall to ask. Her anger at his behavior roared up and with sudden strength, and a move she knew would hurt like a bitch later, she picked up a pillow and sent it flying right towards his face. Which he ducked with annoyingly fast reflexes and stunning disbelief on his face. Yeah. Vigilante. And Hormonal Adolescent of the Year. 

She sent another and he just stepped sideways. Urgh! Picking a pillow, she screamed into it, not really knowing why she was getting so frustrated and feeling so emotional. His emotions were just surprised as far as she felt it.

"Um. Felicity?" his hesitant voice came.

"I'm not listening to you, you swinger! And not the kinky kind," she spoke, knowing it would come out gibberish muffled by the pillow.

"I assume that was something I don't want to hear." Amusement colored his voice, infuriating her more. 

She sat up, glaring daggers at him. "I told you I was done with your push-pull thing. I told you I won't talk to you if you pull that crap again, andding ding ding! You did!"

Oliver tilted his head, considering her with sharp eyes. "What are you talking about? I've been talking to you!"

She fumed. "That doesn't matter! I felt you pulling back. I know you did!"

His triumphant expression gave her sudden pause. What did he look so cheery about? She pondered over the last five minutes of conversation, sans the pillow weaponization, innovative that it was, and suddenly understood. Her eyes grew big and she backtracked. "I felt it in my gut, I meant. Like how you have vibes from people and stuff. Like when your best friend doesn't call you and you know it's something weird?"

Oliver smiled a little and came to sit beside her, where Tommy had sat, lean and relaxed. Her heart was thundering, knowing she had to explain or he would get suspicious and a Suspicious Oliver? Nuh-uh. Bad news. Again, vigilante. 

His lips curled. "You know the one thing that I have learned about you, Felicity?"

She gulped. "I need a filter?"

He huffed a chuckle. "No. But that the first thing out of your mouth is the truth."

"And?" she dragged out.

"And," he gazed into her eyes, "if you try to tell me you didn't fall for my trap today, I won't believe you."

"What trap?" she whispered, already knowing the answer. Oh frack, frackity frack!

"The one where you react to, like you always do, to what I feel and not how I behave. And you just did."

She looked down at her lap, then clenched her shut, not knowing what to say. "Oliver."

It was the only word that escaped her mouth. 

His soft voice came, very close to her face. "Look at me, Felicity."

She shook her head, wanting to sink into the blanket and drown in them. She was so something. She hadn't processed what exactly, but she knew she didn't want to look in those blue orbs.

He chuckled at her frantic reluctance. "Listen then. You just confirmed to me that you can feel what I do. I don't know how much but I have seen enough to know that whatever this is, it may be impossible to understand, but it is happening. And neither of us can stop it. Am I right?"

She nodded, still keeping her eyes closed and her face down. 

"And I know I'm sleeping better because of you," his earnest voice continued. "I feel better when I am supposed to be completely miserable, because of you. I know you saw me that day in the shower just like I saw you." 

She bit her lip, words on the tip of her tongue, but still too something to let it out. His hand came to her chin, the touch jolting a flood of heat and tenderness into her. He tilted her face up, removing her lip from the clasp of her teeth and soothing it. She still kept her eyes closed, damn the catalog of expressions, and let him do what he was. It felt really really good. 

She felt his scruff bristle against her neck as he placed his mouth on her ear, his warm breath caressing her skin, her toes curling in with her sensation. 

"I know," he whispered right against her lobe, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, "how your skin crawls when Tommy touches you. Like it happens to me when any other woman touches me, except my family." His thumb moved over her lip, his soft voice hypnotizing her, making her body ache, their desires intermingling. He continued with the slow torture of the best kind. "I know we are soulmates."

Her breath hitched and she tried to pull back but he didn't let her. "Shh. You told me last night. And I believe you. To be honest, I don't care what brought you into my life but I am so grateful to whatever did. Because you keep me together, Felicity. You make me want to believe again. I have been on my own for so long, and just having you, breathing the same air as me, is enough. So, I don't care what you call it. But I don't want anyone else."

She wasn't aware how her eyes had watered at his vulnerable, honest tone. She had never thought a man like him could lay bare his emotions like this. She had never thought she'd be lucky enough to find what she found in him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, despite her aching ribs, she pulled him into her, whispering back near his ear, "I dont' want anyone else either."

She felt the way he lightened at her words, the way his entire emotions relaxed. He buried his face in her hair, and grumbled, "Then stop flirting with Tommy."

A chuckle escaped her and she finally, finally looked at him. "I thought you knew it was just harmless leg-pulling."

His blue eyes darkened, a wave of possessiveness making her heart stutter in her body. "It was harmless because I have known Tommy my entire life. Doesn't make it any easier. But had it been someone else, I'd shamelessly have done something you probably would have been mad at me for."

She giggled. "I had fun because it was Tommy."

His finger trailed around her face, making her eyes roll back in her head. "Be careful with the fun, Felicity. I don't share what's mine. And this," he touched her forehead, "is mine."

His finger trailed down her nose. He murmured. "Mine."

His other hand went from her shoulders to her breasts, squeezing them gently. "Mine."

She was panting, wanton in her want. And finally, his thumb traced her lips, opening them as she sucked on it. "Mine."

Letting go of his thumb, she took a hold of his lower lip and sucked on it, fanning his desire as he turned the kiss around, invading her mouth with his, invading her senses, invading her mind. After a few minutes of short breaths and moans, he pulled back, leaning his forehead against hers and breathing her in.

"You need to heal," his hoarse voice grated out, thick with lingering desire. 

She pecked his lips once, trying to get him to kiss her again but he held her still, a slow smile curving his mouth. She pouted and sat back, her t-shirt falling from her shoulders.

He watched, and asked amused. "You do know that is mine, right?"

She looked at the grey piece of cloth, now suddenly her favorite, and grinned up at him. "I think 'mine' has been used way too many times in this conversation. This, I am keeping."

He huffed, leaning back against the bedpost, crossing his legs, mirroring her posture. "It looks better on you, anyways."

She smiled, he smiled back, and they just stared at each other, smiling like idiots at each other, happy with each other.

Slowly, though, because obviously it was Oliver, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth hardened. The catalog was out again.

"We have to talk about the pen drive, Felicity," he reminded her, and from his tone, he was as eager to talk about it as she was. Which was nada.

Switching her mind to the matter, she considered him seriously. "You need to tell me what you did during your Let's Ignore Felicity Week and how you got it."

"Felicity..."

"No Oliver. You show, I show," she stated firmly. "And I didn't mean that... just talk already."  

Shaking her head at her bossiness, she watched in fascination as his fingers started rubbing together, his gaze boring into hers. "After that night at the club, I asked Diggle to keep an eye on my mother, knowing that if she was related in any way like it seemed, she would slip up sooner rather than later. And I was also into finding your stalker," he literally spit the word out. 

She nodded for him to continue, and he did. "The search for him was turning up nothing, at all. But Diggle did find something suspicious. My mother," he paused for a second, inhaling deeply, "was visiting Malcolm Merlyn late in the night for two nights in a row. So, after she was done with the meeting, I went to his office and that's where I found the drive, attached to the computer. My gut told me to pick it up. So I did. And then you..." 

He took a deep breath, his fear of losing her replaying in his senses and hers. "I'm fine, Oliver."

His eyes glanced over her bandages and she shook her head, letting him feel how unimportant it was and how sure she was of him saving her that night. 

"Your turn now," he reminded her. 

Oh boy. She inhaled, her ribs hurting with the big expansion, and rubbed her hands together. Okay. Here went nothing.

"So," she opened her mouth, letting it do all the talking like it always did, "first off, I had no idea about it till that night so just be cool okay? Okay. So long story short, my father left my mom and I when I was a nugget, well not really, but I was nuggety. And I remember how much it hurt but that's kind of old news now. My mom is awesome, by the way. I think she'd love you if she met you. Not like your mom gives me the evil eye. And I can't believe I am talking like that in her own house, in her softy bed. And you're her son obviously. I managed to avoid her today. How long dod you think I can continue with that? But..."

"Felicity," Oliver spoke expectantly. "The drive?"

She blinked and her hands came into play. "Yes. Anyways, so I had a great childhood. Especially with Mrs. N. You two should definitely meet. But my father. Yes. I had never spoken to him since he left, not heard from him since. So imagine my surprise when I realized that the pen drive contained information about one Richard Stone. Three guesses who that is? Yup. Daddy. I kept my mom's maiden name. That's a story for another time. You with me so far?"

As she heaved in much needed bouts of air, he nodded somberly. "Continue."

"Okay," she mentally jogged, jumping on her toes, prepping. "Okay. So his name was on the drive with a lot of other information, namely this one project that he is into at his place of work. Unidac Industries."

Oliver frowned, "Isn't that the..."

"Company QC bought two months ago?" she finished for him. "Yup. The same one."

She could see him building the puzzle in his head. He was clever, more clever than people thought or what they gave him credit for. But she couldn't think of that for now. She had to talk. "And he was always into science, a genius actually. That's where I got it from, genetically. Not that my mom is dumb. She's just not science-y. Okay so the pen drive had all this info on this one project that QC had allocated to the company, all under the supervision of my genius, abandoning father."

She stopped, biting her lip. Oliver narrowed his eyes. "What is this project, Felicity?"

She gulped. "It's a manual earthquake machine."

Oliver blinked at her, like he hadn't heard her correctly. "A what?" 

Gulp again. "Manual earthquake machine. A machine that can trigger tremors in the tectonic plates manually. A machine that can disturb the plates to shift and destroy places and..."

"I think I got it," he said, disbelief coloring his tone. He was feeling it too in spades. "But why? What's the point?"

Felicity shrugged. "Well, 'Manual Earthquake Machine' does not definitely sound like any project of Rainbows and Unicorns Corp."

He gave her a look. She sighed. "I don't know. But it has to be diabolical, right?"

A sudden yawn escaped her mouth, making her cringe. Oliver got up from the bed, fluffing her already fluffy pillows and tucking her in. "Sleep."

"Where are you going?" she asked with another yawn.

He smiled indulgently at her. "I have to go out. Hit the streets. And update Digg."

"M'kay," she said, sleep already coming in. "I think you should talk to your mom and I should talk to my dad, or better yet, we should talk to them together. But then that would be really awkward too. I'll just shuffle my feet, I think, and you'll just stare a hole in the wall."

He chortled, brushing her hair back from her face. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"Mmm-hmm. Can we kiss some more tomorrow too?" she mumbled, squinting her eyes at him. 

He laughed outright. "Let's see tomorrow if you're up for it."

"Oh, I'm always up for it. You're not up a lot. You just press pause. And you know you can sneak in and cuddle me at night and I would not mind, but you won't because you'll go to your cave and probably sweat on a bench press than on me" she grumbled.

Shaking his head in that ridiculous patent move again, he kissed her forehead, murmuring on her skin, "Sweet dreams, Felicity."

She felt the need to be close to her in him and she knew he would indeed be sneaking into this fluffy bed tonight. She smiled, closing her eyes on a happy exhale. The bad guys, or women, could wait for tomorrow. For tonight, she had a great bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think?
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> Check out my Bratva story, The Phoenix too. :)
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	16. Fast and Furious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> Thank you for the phenomenal response to this story and waiting so patiently for the next update. You are the best, as always. :)
> 
> And since I am done with my college stuff, this story will be updated according to schedule every MONDAY and SATURDAY, twice a week, unless exceptional circumstances arise. :)
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Moira Queen really had it in for her. The woman was diabolically involved in some sort of diabolical plan and she still had the audacity to raise a finger at her morality? Like seriously? She was so not a member of the Morality Police.

Felicity stood outside the parlor that she had been about to enter on her own when Diabolical Queen's voice had stopped her outside the door. After finally three days in the Queen Mansion, in the fluffy and awesome guest room where the staff took care of her and Oliver made appearances, she had healed well enough to get around by herself, something that Oliver still did not agree to vehemently. If it were up to him, she was pretty sure he would carry her everywhere himself, like he had taken to and not that she minded at all, but this was his house. And that was exactly how Moira Queen had seen her son last night in the corridor, with her sleepy self in his arms as he carried her back to her room from where she had been watching movies with Thea, and with a disapproving glance that was meant to stew and roast and barbecue her, she had regally walked off into her room. And Oliver had shaken his own head and like the gentleman he was, he had deposited her in bed, given her a chaste little good night kiss and left.

Gentleman Oliver. He was amazing but she was tired of Gentleman Oliver, treating her like she was made of fine china. She was a flesh and blood woman and that flesh of hers was calling now. Like the werewolf howling at the moon type of calling. Mating season and all. She wanted the out-of-his-mind passionate Oliver that she knew he kept hidden just beneath the surface in civil company. But hell, she wasn't civil company. The last thing she wanted to be with him was _civil._

So, this morning, her day off after yesterday which had been her first day back at work since the accident, she had given herself a pat on the back and decided enough was enough. He wasn't caving. Well, she would make him. And hence she had gone searching for him in the house, following her gut to his like a beacon (this soulmate thing was really convenient for that by the way) that would lead her to him and stopped outside the door, eavesdropping on the conversation.

"Oliver, that girl is bad news," Moira Queen said, her voice so genuine and concerned. It made Felicity gag. Seriously? Had she taken lessons in theater or something?

"I think I can see for myself who is and isn't bad news, Mom," Oliver replied, his voice firm and managing to flip her tummy even through the door. Jeez, would it ever stop with them? She really hoped not.

"Clearly, you cannot," Moira Queen reprimanded, like she was speaking to a ten-year old. "I know you have been alone for a long time and she may be, let's say, good company in your needs..."

Felicity's blood boiled at the implication that she was sleeping with Oliver. How dare Moira Queen accuse her of something she hadn't even managed to do yet? And she very much wanted to? And this thing, whatever it was between them, went way beyond mere measly sheets and flesh. And she already knew that amazing 'beyond' part. And she wanted the sheets and flesh now, measly as they were. Gah, she was horny, so horny for him. She swallowed.

Oliver's voice interrupted Moira's before she could say anything more demeaning. "Stop right there, Mom. Felicity is not just some girl I'm shagging."

Yeah. Sadly. That would have to be cured soon. She very much wanted to be shagged. And that word just reminded her of Scooby Doo. This was not the time for Scooby Doo.

"She is my very serious girlfriend, and I will not have you disrespecting her."

Felicity's heart stuttered before racing like it was running for its life. Serious girlfriend. She was his girlfriend? When did she become his girlfriend, that too the serious one? The thought was making all species of butterflies to accost her tummy. She barely gulped down a happy yelp but couldn't control her body and started doing that happy dance she did when she was happy. Well, yeah, obvious, since it was, you know, a happy dance. She was over explaining. 

"What about Laurel?" his mother voiced and Felicity stopped right in her tracks.

"What about her?"

Felicity could have kissed him for the absolute, genuine confusion in his voice. Well, she could have kissed him otherwise too. Not the point. 

"You are supposed to be with a woman like her," Moira Queen stated like it was obvious. And had Felicity not known exactly how much she meant to that man, this was exactly the kind of moment that would have made her insecurities rear its ugly head. They didn't even bubble up. Gorgeous Laurel was a thing of the past.

"I think destiny disagrees with your idea of who I am supposed to be with, Mom." The amusement in his voice, along with that secret knowledge that only they had, made her catch her breath and want to giggle. As it is, she started with the happy dance again in order to keep from making a sound.

Suddenly the door was pulled open and she halted in the middle of a step, her posture weird and crazy, and looked at a judgy Moira Queen who was totally judging her. Felicity flushed at getting caught, and opened her mouth, trying to explain unnecessarily.

"I wasn't eavesdropping or anything," she started and saw Oliver come towards the door at her voice, and stop to listen, amused. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb, a small dimple peeking from under his sexy scruff. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and continued. "Well, I was but that's not a polite thing to do. Neither is wanting to argue with the mother of your boyfriend. But well, we have already done that once and I don't want to repeat it. What I do want to repeat is that I am his girlfriend, something I didn't know till just now. Not that it means we were just whamming till now. No, ma'am, no whamming for us. Your son is a perfect gentleman. And I can see from your look that you don't believe me. Yeah well, he has a record of whamming that makes the fact that he is not whamming a girl living in his own house moot. And you have a beautiful house but it reminds me of your hair and I don't want to go there at all so please interrupt me, like right now..."

Oliver choked on a laugh and the sound managed to stop her as she looked aghast at Moira Queen, who looked back at her just with those judgy eyes, then gave Oliver a pointed look and then walked away.

Felicity sighed and banged her head slowly on the door in front of her, eyes clenched shut and not believing herself, when after the second bang, Oliver's big hand inserted itself, not where she would like him to insert it, but between the door and her head as she continued banging. Not him. Her head. Ah, she couldn't believe her brain was still in the gutter. It was always in the gutter when it came to him.

"Good to know," Oliver's amused voice made her stop and realize she had been muttering out loud yet again. She banged her head again.

"Hey," he said softly. 

"You didn't tell me I was your serious girlfriend," she mumbled against the door. She felt his amusement and his affection from where he was touching her on her forehead. 

"Should I have told my mother about the soulmate thing instead?" he whispered against her ear, making her entire body shiver with twin pleasure, his lips brushing her lobe. "I'm not sure she would have believed me."

Well, she didn't believe how easily he had taken the news himself. It was something she had not expected from him at all. But she liked it. Like she liked the way his lips were whispering against her skin, torturing her. Before she could turn around and jump him like she wanted to, he took a step back, probably feeling how much she wanted to jump him. Yeah, she was crazy like that. And apparently scary, too. 

"We have some work to do today," Oliver spoke after clearing his throat, putting some physical distance between them.

Her frustration was palpable and she looked at him with a huff, crossing her arms. "What?"

Oliver tilted his head apologetically and spoke, "We have to talk to your father, Felicity."

And just like that, her lust went on the back-burner, a different kind of feeling churning her stomach. 

"Felicity," Oliver started but she shook her head, interrupting him. "No, Oliver. You are right. We need to figure out what the hell is happening."

Taking a deep breath, she took a step back, straightening her spine. "Give me a few minutes and I'll get ready."

Without waiting for his nod, she turned towards the stairs and went up, feeling his own frustration bubbling inside her. Too bad they had work to do.

 

                                            ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

They were on the highway, speeding west towards the small town where Unidac Industries was located, with the windows rolled down and the wind whipping through her hair. She turned sideways to look at the handsome devil of a man who made her hormones have a fiesta in her body, including all the fireworks, and a small smile pulled at her lips. He sat in a casual black Henley and sunglasses, with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gear, his jeans clad thigh shifting with every few seconds on the pedals. His muscles were so dormant and so controlled in each movement. She could imagine what fear he must unleash in his enemies with the unleashing of that strength. And what a fine specimen he was. And she was in the embarrassing drool territory now. 

She looked out the window at the passing view, thinking about the last hour they had spent in comfortable silence. When she had come down the stairs, Diggle had been waiting to escort her outside, telling her that he would be staying back in Starling to take care of things on this end while they were gone, and whispering conspiratorially that Oliver had wanted to take her to meet her father himself. Felicity had flushed slightly at that and smiled at the bear of a man while her escorted her outside to the driveway, where Oliver had been waiting behind the wheel of an Audi some-model-or-the-other. All she had known was that it looked sleek, fast and black. Like a panther. Which was appropriate considering the man inside it. She had opened the door and entered before he could come around to do it for her (yeah, she was tired of gentlemanly him, as she had said) and buckled up. And he had put the pedal to the floor and they had whoomed out. She had taken out her tablet from her bag and gotten engrossed in some research on the company while Oliver had driven in silence, only some soft music playing in the background. Only once she had asked him about why he hadn't taken his bike and made a very obvious innuendo that she liked riding. He had glanced at her, ignored it and told her "I didn't want you that exposed out in the open." That had sobered her up pretty quickly and silence had reined again.

But now she was getting restless, especially watching him and his sinful muscles and her mind in the trash can. Slowly, getting an idea, she opened a new window on her tablet and typed his name in Google search engine. In less than a second, results popped up with a billion links to information about him, mostly his famed return from the dead. Filtering those out, and focusing on his pre-island shenanigans, she clicked on a link and read the article, knowing she was going to be needling him but also knowing that it was high time. She had needs too.

"You know," she drawled out lazily. "Your pre-island escapades were quite the bulletin."

She felt him throwing her a sideways glance but he remained silent and focused on the road. Biting back a grin, already knowing how he was going to react, she continued in the same drawl. "It talks here especially of how you used to entertain women who threw themselves at you. Quite the sex god, huh."

Tamping down that slight bit of jealousy at those faceless, nameless herds who had had her boyfriend (she still had butterflies labeling him that way), she felt his slight confusion and trepidation at her line of questioning. 

"I am not that guy anymore, Felicity," he stated casually, his emotions that she could feel belied by his tone. 

She smirked. "You are not a sex god anymore? I beg to differ. Not that I have had sex with you. But close enough. And actually that's the point of this conversation. To make you think of sex. With me. Obviously."

His eyes were hidden behind his glasses so she couldn't discern his expression as he turned his head a little then turned back to the road. "I don't need a reminder, Felicity."

"Well, obviously you do," she grumbled out.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded quietly. 

"It means that you apparently like having me as your soulmate but you won't make me want to go to the church!" she shot back, then paused. "Not that I would since I'm Jewish and all. But the point is that I've been trying to throw myself at you for the past five days almost and you won't even kiss me properly! And I'm fine now too!"

Oliver slowed down a little and looked at her, since the highway was mostly empty, removing his glasses and throwing them back, his gaze incredulous. "I'm being a gentleman, Felicity. Something I have never ever been with any woman. Because you are not any woman."

Her heart melted at his sincerity. And she shook her head at him. He was so clueless. "Well," she began, pointing at herself, "this woman, if we are talking stereotypes, Mr. Reformed-Bad-Boy, is tired of being a lady and is begging to be a tramp with you. Green you or white you or color you. Doesn't matter. It has to be naked you. That clear enough for you?"

The growl that escaped his chest did things to her that made her squirm in her seat. But before he could say anything, she saw him freeze as his gaze drifted to the rear-view mirror and watched the expression on his face do a 180. The deep anger she felt in herself was not her own. It was his. Not understanding, she blinked at him in confusion and opened her mouth to speak when he cut her off curtly. "Keep your head down. We are being followed."

All thoughts of sex escaped her mind as she turned her neck and spotted the same dark sedan that had hit her the other night follow them. She gripped Oliver's bicep with one hand as her heart started pounding in her chest, fear invading her veins. Feeling how scared she was probably, he softly put a hand on hers and got back to driving, turning her back around in the process. 

"We'll be fine, Felicity," Oliver stated, the absolute certainty in his voice reassuring her somewhat. But then she turned her neck and looked at the vehicle again, and lost her cool once more. 

"That's the same car, Oliver, from that night" she spoke, her voice trembling just a bit. 

She saw the transformation on his face, the switching of his internal modes so, so visible. His jaw tightened and set, his eyes blank and narrowed. This was his scary face. And she was scared. Not of him, but the people in that vehicle, knowing how they had almost killed her once already. 

"I need you to find out all you can about that vehicle," he ordered firmly. "Take down the numbers."

Thankful for the distraction, she took out her tablet and listened to him read off the numbers from the rear view mirror, while he focused on the road and accelerated. Running the scan on her own software, she waited for the result to load and finally read the page, her heart sinking. 

"It's registered to a Vincent Stone. And it was reported stolen a few weeks ago," she informed him, frustrated at the dead end. 

He gave a curt nod and kept switching his eyes between the mirror and the road. 

"Um, should I look for a weapon or something?" she hesitantly asked him.

He looked at her once briefly and spoke. "You won't need one."

She blinked at him in confusion. "Umm?"

He stated, clarifying, his voice low. "You have me. You don't need one."

Her heart thundered at his words and the implications and she bit her lip. "What about you?"

Glancing at her briefly again, he firmly spoke, with a slight hint of cockiness. "I don't need any either."

Felicity would have shaken her head had she not felt the absolute certainty he was feeling. And that, more than anything else, calmed down her frazzled nerves. Oliver was with her. He was a freaking vigilante for goodness' sake! Oliver was with her and they would be fine. Believing him, in him, exhaling loudly at the thought, she turned to look back and saw a something glint near the window of the car. Heart drumming, she shouted at Oliver, "They have a gun out!"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Oliver swerved the car sharply to the left in a dirt lane and the sound of a gun firing came through the air. She felt his hand on her head, pushing her down hard, while he yelled, "Stay down!" and drove with one hand. Breathing through her mouth now, she felt his own adrenaline and anger pulse through her body as he hit the pedal hard and swerved the car like this was a race track. She would have been worried at the speed had this been anyone else but him. Speed and him were good buddies in daily life apparently.

A gun fired again and it seemed like Oliver had had enough of the attack because he suddenly hit the brakes and stopped the car, in the middle of a tiny side lane.

She looked at him in disbelief, her jaw dropping as he looked at the rear view and saw the car stop right behind them. Swallowing hard, she opened her mouth when Oliver cut her off again. "You don't get out of this car, no matter what. Got it?"

His hard, vigilante mode made her gulp but she nodded. He held her face for a second and whispered, "No one is going to touch you," before turning around and opening the car door.

Her heart in her throat, she watched him crouch to the ground, shutting his door and locking the car behind him, and inch forward. Peeking from behind the head rest, she saw two huge men, dressed in leather jackets, get out of the other car and come towards her side, completely missing Oliver as he stayed crouched to the ground on the other. And though the car was locked, she pressed herself back into the seat, watching them come closer and closer. Just as they were a foot from the Audi, she saw Oliver jump over the hood with one hand and land a punch coming down on the man on the left, hitting his face so hard the man's nose bled.

Chaos broke out and she watched in utter fascination as he fought of the two big, armed men without getting a single hit on himself. Never actually having seen him fight, she could suddenly understand why he was so feared. She had been talking about him unleashing his strength and he had. This was not the gentleman who fluttered his fingers over her cheeks. This was a man of the earth, of the dirt and the sweat and the blood, of all things flesh and violent. He was like a panther going for his prey. It was equally hypnotic and horrifying to watch. 

His method and speed were no match for the men, who were absolutely useless without their guns that Oliver had removed in a second. She watched him punch and kick and elbow, spin and jump and knock heads together, without anything but his body and she realized just how lethal he was. He was a weapon himself. One man was already unconscious on the ground, covered in his nose bleed, and Oliver had the second one in a head lock, his huge biceps an inescapable trap for the man.

"Who do you work for?" she heard Oliver ask in a low, hard voice. His vigilante voice.

The man gulped. Oliver tightened his grip. "Tell me!"

"I don't know," the man whimpered in pain. "Someone paid us through wire to kill the blonde. They contacted us through burners. That's all I know! Nothing more."

With a sudden tightening of his arm, the man was unconscious and on the ground, though not dead, for which she was grateful. 

She saw Oliver clench his hands into fists and crack his neck, his eyes closed before he started walking towards the car and got in, slamming the door behind him. She waited for him to settle. Once seated, he finally turned towards her and grabbed the back of her head, pulling her forwards and swallowed her yelp of surprise, clashing their mouths together hard. Her sudden moan was lost in his mouth as he plunged his tongue in and bobbed his head, making her toes curl and her hands fist into his sweater, tasting the sweat on his lips and his own very taste. He bit and nibbled and pulled and literally feasted on her mouth for minutes, making her lips swell to incredible levels, and she felt his fear, his anger, his relief for her course through her veins. His stubble rasped against the area around her mouth, burning it and she pulled him closer, dueling her tongue with his.

After minutes, finally pulling back, he looked at her with hesitance before turning his head down and she frowned. 

"Please don't fear me, Felicity," he murmured, looking down at her hands on his chest. "I won't be able to live with that. I never wanted you to see this part of me. But don't fear me, please. I can never hurt..."

Her eyes pooling with moisture at his plea and her heart ached. Taking his face in her hands, she tilted it up till he was looking at her and kissed his lips softly, unlike their previous kiss, soothing his fears with her mouth on his.

Pulling back just an inch, she whispered to him. "I know, Oliver. I don't think you can make me fear you, not even if you try. You know why? Because I know you are a good man. And that side you are talking about? This was for our protection, for my safety. Plus I want to see all of you." She paused suddenly and shook her head, her voice getting louder. "And I did not mean that literally. Just metaphorically. But I mean that literally too. I just don't think these are the right circumstances for me to tell you I want to see all of you pronto. I meant that..."

He chuckled suddenly, shaking his head at her, his eyes warming. "Only you, Felicity Smoak. Only you can do this to me."

With a last small kiss, he turned forward and turned the ignition on and reversed out of the lane, leaving the other car and the unconscious bodies behind, and getting back on the highway, now just 15 minutes out of the town. 

"Remind me again why we didn't let Diggle come?" she asked aloud after a few minutes, leaning back in her seat. "I mean the bad guys would take a look at his arms and high tail it. Like tree trunks. What huge arms!"

There was a moment of silence before his voice came out, slightly offended. "I have big arms." 

Looking at him, at his pursed mouth, she lol'd so hard, clutching her stomach and laughing. "Feeling competitive, Mr. Queen?" she smirked, raising her eyebrows.

He huffed, pouting in such an adorable way.

She grinned, patting the said arm, on his huge bicep. "Well, his arms may be huge but they don't make me want to climb him like a tree."

He looked at her, a slight dimple appearing on his cheek and she just couldn't resist anymore and pulled it, earning herself a very surprised stare that lasted long.

"What?" she asked consciously, his scrutiny intense.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothing. Just no one has pulled my cheek since Thea was born."

Blinking rapidly, she gazed back at him, knowing how much he loved her sister and how much he had missed having displays of affection in ten little words. In a light bulb moment, she understood that his pre-island behavior had been nothing but trying to seek attention that he could not resent having lost to the sister he loved and adored so much.

Taking in a breath, she pulled on his cheek again, smiling. "Well, that's a loss. Your cheek is quite pullable. I'm pretty sure I'll be spending a lot of time pulling it. You've unleashed a cheek pulling monster, my dear boyfriend."

The smile on his face was completely worth her making a fool of herself. He took a hold of her hand and planted a kiss on her palm, letting her feel everything he was.

"I like being your boyfriend," he whispered softly, pressing small kisses to her fingers.

"Well, I don't like being your girlfriend because I am being deprived," she grumbled again and he laughed out at her tone, shaking his head, entering the town.

Slowly, she felt the air change as their focus shifted. Her heart started pounding again, thinking of the man she had not seen in years and whom she was going to confront in a few minutes. Emotions she had not felt for a very long time surfaced and she inhaled deeply, trying to keep them down.

She saw the board of Unidac Industries in a few minutes of tensed silence, and Oliver entered the driveway, coming to a stop outside the doors to the building where the guards stood.

"I'll park the car and we can go in," he said quietly.

Felicity shook her head, her eyes on the door. "No. I need to do this on my own."

His hand suddenly took hold of her chin and turned her face towards him, his eyes looking at her. "I am not letting you go in there alone, Felicity. Not after what just happened."

She grit her teeth and stood her ground. "And I am not letting you come in with me because one, I need to confront my father, who abandoned my mother and I, on my own. That's the only way. And two, Oliver Queen does not enter places like this to question employees. If my father is involved in something shady, then you being here can put your entire greenery in danger. So, stop with the gorilla and wait here."

His jaw was clenched so tight that she was sure he was gnashing teeth, his eyes narrowed on her face. "You are not going alone."

She narrowed her eyes back. "Yes I am."

They stared each other down for minutes before he cursed and slapped his hand on the steering. Then he turned to her. "You keep your phone on and stay on call with me. I don't care what's going on, I'm going to be right outside, and the slightest hint of something wrong, you even breathe wrong, I'm coming in."

She opened her mouth to retort and he raised a finger silencing her. "This is non-negotiable."

Pursing her mouth, she finally nodded after a moment, knowing he was talking sense for once. Yeah well, hurray for him. Connecting their phones on a call, she watched him put in a bluetooth and opened the door.

"Felicity?"

She paused and looked back at him. He gazed back earnestly. "I'll be with you the entire time, okay?"

Smiling in gratitude, she exited the car and walked towards the building, dread knotting her stomach, entering the huge area and headed to the desk. After asking for her father's name, and being directed to his office, she entered the elevator, climbing to the third floor, and exited towards the right. Stopping on the fourth door as she had been told to do, she inhaled deeply, her hand trembling and moisture pooling in her eyes, and raised a fist, letting it hover uncertainly for a second. No. She was stronger than this. And Oliver was with her. Straightening her spine, she rapped her fist on the wood before she could talk herself out of it. And then she waited. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think?
> 
> Check out my other stories too if you like. :)
> 
> Come say Hi to me on
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>  TWITTER: _@dorky06_


	17. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!
> 
> Thanks so much for your awesome response! 
> 
> I'm back with a new chapter and it is a long one. Note that the rating from this chapter on will be Explicit. ;)
> 
> Also, this is a shout out to the amazing anonymous person who left a poster for this story in my inbox today. It's attached below. Thank you so so much, Anon! This is my very first poster and it's a beautiful gift!
> 
> Okay. So enjoy. Drop me a line. Kudos and comments feed my muse. :)
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> Happy reading!!!

 

                                                                                                  ------------------------------------------------

 

Felicity waited for almost a minute. There was no answer to her knock. With slight hesitation, she lifted her hand up again and rapped it twice on the wood firmly. When again she got no response, she carefully put her hand on the knob and turned it, surprised to find it open. Dithering on the threshold for a second, she took a deep breath, not knowing what she was going to do, and entered the office.

It was dark inside and since she knew it was daylight, she inferred that there were no windows in the room. Huh, odd. Letting her eyes get used to the darkness, she felt beside the wall for a switch and failing to find any, she entered timidly, searching for any signs of life.

"Hello?" she called out, looking around. Feeling a wave of anxiety wash over her, she quickly took her phone out of her jeans pocket and put it to her ear.

"Oliver?" she whispered quietly.

"I'm here," his voice came instantly, soothing her frazzled nerves. "What's going on?"

She looked at the empty chair that was turned sideways, and whispered back. "The office is empty. And a little creepy to be honest."

There was silence on the other end for a heartbeat before his voice came out sharp. "Get out of there right now."

She nodded, not really wanting to stay, when a shiver went down her spine and she froze. Knowing she was being watched, she quickly put the phone in her pocket without disconnecting the call and took a step towards the door when a light near the table went on. Yelping at the sudden flooding of light, she glanced around quickly and her eyes finally went to a man sitting quietly in the corner of the office.

"You have grown up, munchkin."

Munchkin. Her father had always called her munchkin. But this man did not sound like the loving father she remembered. He sounded cold. And the word sounded more like a taunt than an endearment. Swallowing, she softly spoke, her knees trembling. "Daddy?"

The man suddenly chortled, still in darkness. "I stopped being your father the day I left, Felicity. Let's not pretend otherwise."

Her eyes teared up at his words, making her feel like that small girl who had run to the door and waited for her father to come back for nights. He never had and standing in this curse of an office, she realized he never will. Mouth trembling, controlling her tears as she let go of that small sliver of hope that she had been holding without even realizing, she averted her gaze to the side and finally seeing switches, she turned them on, flooding the room in multiple lights.

She exhaled once, steeling her spine, and turned to him, treating like the cold stranger he was. "I need to ask you a few questions."

The man before her, who had once been her father, had aged since she last remembered him. His hair was peppered with white and his eyes were hidden behind a layer of glasses, and his face was more wrinkled, but it were his eyes that had changed the most. They were the same blue as hers, but they were indifferent, without remorse. She suddenly felt a wave of bitterness wash over her and she touched her hand to her phone in her pocket, drawing strength from it like a talisman, knowing Oliver was on the other end, right with her. She had to do this for them, for everything that he fought for every night, for her own conscience.

"Tell me about the Markov device," Felicity said, her voice firm and steely.

Her father tilted his head to the side, and she realized she had taken that after him. Considering her small frame, he spoke. "I don't know what you are talking about."

Narrowing her eyes at his obvious lie, she crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. "Really? Because I have proof implicating you in some pretty nasty stuff that anyone in the police would love to put you away for."

She couldn't believe she was threatening her own father, the man she had hoped to reconcile with. But this man was not him. And she was so so disappointed.

He steepled his fingers together on the desk and leaned forward. "What proof?"

"You tell me and I'll tell you."

Finally, he got up from behind the desk, his tall frame coming towards where she stood beside the door lazily as he spoke. "You weren't supposed to put your nose in places that you have no business looking into, munchkin. I had to have your house destroyed to find what exactly you knew."

Her heart stopped, before thudding painfully in her chest as realization dawned upon her. She blinked back tears of betrayal. "You had me followed? You had my house broken into? _You_ want me dead?" 

He was shaking his head before she had completed. "No, Felicity. I never wanted you dead. Just scared enough. You have become a threat to our operation. One we did not anticipate."

Everything suddenly clicked into place in her head and she looked at him, aghast. "You, whoever you all are, got Walter kidnapped. Is he even alive?"

Her father, no the stranger, smiled slightly. "Yes. We just wish to keep him till we complete the mission."

Felicity stood her ground, feeling the hate for him invade her to the bones. "Tell me."

He remained silent and suddenly Felicity had had enough. She took a threatening step forward, which was odd considering how small she was, and grit her teeth. "Now you listen to me, _Daddy."_ She laced the word with sarcasm. "I'll tell you what I know. I know that this company, namely you and Moira Queen are involved in something big. I know that the Markov device is actually a machine that triggers earthquakes. I know that this device is not supposed to exist except on paper and yet there is a prototype sitting right here in the lab of this company. I know that QC brought Unidac and Walter was removed because he would never have agreed to whatever you people are up to. I know that there is a hell lot of other evidence that i have against all of you that can shut your mission down like this." Effective finger snapping.

The man just smiled softly and looked at her, the smile nowhere close to his eyes. "I'm impressed, munchkin. But what makes you think there is not a spot for you beside Walter? You are my daughter, yes, but this mission is my life. It is everything I have worked for and nobody will mess with that."

Felicity grit her teeth harder. "What makes you think I don't already have a back up and a trigger that will release all that information to the world if you even touch my hair. I will decapitate whatever you Evil and Diabolical Inc have up your sleeve. And knowing it's an earthquake machine, I know it is evil and diabolical."

He shook his head at her. "It doesn't work that way, munchkin. I want you to live, see that Queen boy, have a good life. Don't interfere anymore, and this conversation will remain just between us. I promise."

Felicity curled her mouth in a snarl, a scowl marring her face as bitterness hit her hard. "Yeah, well, one thing I have learned about you, Daddy, is that your promises don't count for shit."

Seeing him narrow his eyes, she raised a finger at him. "You are a crazy man. And you are the bad guy. I am so ashamed to call you my father right now."

With that, she turned towards the door and exited the office, heading to the elevator, tears dripping down her cheeks, feeling his gaze on her back. She punched the button for the elevator and descended down, her emotions scattered all over the place, just a distant reassurance inside her that she knew was not her own. The doors opened and she walked out quickly, her emotions threatening to come apart from the seams and holding onto his affection inside her. She exited the building and saw the sun setting down, streaking the sky a beautiful orange.

Standing outside the door, she looked around and saw Oliver standing against the car, waiting for her, his eyes hard and mouth pursed, but she didn't give it heed, running across the lot towards him, full sprint, his emotions growing inside her with proximity, and finally, she collided into him, throwing her arms around his chest as he cocooned her in his arms, tight and secure. She brushed her face against his chest, wetting the black fabric with her tears and he muttered sweet nothings in her hair, rubbing his hands over her back slowly, softly, just letting his own anger at her father, his own pain at his mother, his pain for her flow into her, sharing it with her, calming her bruised heart better than anything else.  

They stood like that for ages, just holding each other, not caring of any eyes being cast their way. Once feeling better, she pulled back to look at him, and he wiped her cheeks tenderly, holding her face in his big hands. 

She swallowed. "What now?"

His jaw hardened. "Now, we go home, and I confront my mother, figure out exactly what the plan is, and as you said, decapitate it."

Nodding, she took a step back, walking around the car to her door and opening it, buckling herself in while he did the same. 

"Hey," his soft voice broke through her musings. She looked at his face, set half on fire from the sunset, and smiled slightly. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "I'm more disappointed than anything else. Discovering your father who abandoned you when you were a kid is some mad scientist with evil plans for the world is definitely the pinnacle of Daddy issues."

Oliver cracked a slight smile at her wordings, switching the ignition on. "Well, definitely beats running around in green leather with a bow and arrow for Daddy's last wish."

Felicity laughed out loud, her heart filling with love for this man, who was trying to make her smile at the expense of his own awful memories. She took a hold of his hand, lacing their fingers together, letting him feel everything her heart was feeling. He squeezed back and started driving, out and away from the building, the purple in the sky more prominent now, the moon already peeking out.

They drove in silence for a while, both their minds working on what they knew now, processing it, when Felicity finally broke it. "Okay. So we know Daddy Dearest and Co have kidnapped Walter and want me fried. We know that they might be perfecting the ground shaking beneath feet thingy. We know that..."

"We know that we can't do anything till we get back tomorrow morning. It's better if we discuss this with Digg present too. So, let's shut that can of worms till then, okay?" Oliver said firmly, stopping her tirade.

Sighing, she nodded, then frowned slightly. "Tomorrow morning? But it's just a five hour drive."

Oliver looked sideways at her and just dimpled his cheek, giving her a naughty smile that had her heart racing and her mind distracted. Uh-oh. He had something up his sleeve.

She opened her mouth to ask but he was shaking his head before she even had a syllable out. And now curiosity was killing her. Shaking off her thoughts, knowing he was not going to budge, she changed the topic to lighter things.

"Is Tommy seeing anyone?"

Oliver gave her another glance, his brow furrowing. "Why?"

The tone in his voice made her giggle. "Because he was asking me about Stana yesterday. And I don't want him anywhere near her if he already is seeing someone."

Oliver huffed, relaxing in the seat. "He was seeing Laurel for a while. But I'm not sure about right now."

Felicity giggled. "Why do you tense up whenever I talk about Tommy?" 

Oliver sighed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I don't tense up. It's just... I don't know."

Felicity smiled slightly, tracing a finger over his ear, pulling his cheek again, watching him lean into her touch. "I'm all yours, Oliver. You don't have to feel insecure."

He turned heated eyes on her, and pressed the accelerator without saying a word. The atmosphere in the car had suddenly changed, throbbing with a tension that was palpable and making her heart race. She didn't know why he was speeding between cars, she didn't know what the heck was going to happen, but she was squirming on her seat with anticipation, her chest already heaving, their blood heating and the very air around them heavy. 

He drove skillfully and avoided cars, getting out of the town, his eyes focused straight ahead, not even glancing at her once. It was completely dark now, and they reached the fork towards the highway in quiet. But instead of taking a right, he took the left, leaving her confused but still speeding. Not really understanding but trusting him, she sat back in the seat and rolled her window down, letting the cool night air whip her hair around, cooling her heated skin. After almost half an hour of driving, getting farther away from civilization, Oliver took another left and Felicity watched in awe as they reached a came out in a clearing on top of a small cliff, surrounded by woods, the small clearing the only spot devoid of trees.

The car stopped and she got out hurriedly, walking a few steps forward towards the edge but stopping a lot before it. The view from the spot was spectacular and she stood speechless at the panorama. Far away, she could see the twinkling lights of some town, miles away, it's skylight distant. But what enraptured her were the stars, right above her, like a dome, so so close upon her, twinkling too, and beautiful against the dark veil of the night. She had never seen so many stars in her life.

She heard a shuffling sound from behind her and looked, eyes widening at Oliver, who was spreading a picnic mat she hadn't even known he had had over the soft grass. He looked up at her from his crouching position, and a shiver wracked her body, her arms erupting with goosebumps, her nipples hardening behind her shirt.

She just stood still, looking at him, her breath coming and going out of her lungs with increases rapidity, wondering how he knew about his place but not really caring. He got up in one smooth motion and walked around to his door, turning off the headlights, plunging the area into darkness and just the natural moonlight. She walked towards the car, not knowing what was going on but feeling his lust in her veins. Before she could take another step, his arms were under her ass, lifting her up on the hood of the car and stepping between her spread legs, bringing her pelvis flush with his.

She brought her arms up and around him, grinding right on his clothed erection, sharing breaths with him. He tilted his head to her ears and rasped in a low, rough voice, biting her lobe. "Tell me again, Felicity. Tell me you are mine."

A moan escaped her lips, her gut swirling with a plethora of his and hers emotions, arousing her more than she had ever been, even with him. It was like her soul knew this was it, knew it would be cementing the bond with its mate tonight, and that aroused her body to a pinnacle. Closing her eyes, giving him access to wherever he desired, she bit her lip to keep in another moan that his small love bites on the column of her neck were inspiring.

"Tell me, baby." His voice demanded and pleaded at the same time.

"I'm yours, Oliver. Just yours," she murmured, gripping his hair and arching her back into his seeking mouth.

With a roar at her words, he suddenly lifted her effortlessly again, walking a few steps and bending down with her, mouth still latched on her neck, to deposit her on the mat, cushioned by the grass. And for the first time, he covered her body with his, completely, letting her feel every hard edge and every beautiful muscle right against her own curves.

His hands went exploring those curves, pushing under her shirt, claiming every inch of her skin that they uncovered, all the while kissing her on her pulse, her face, her lips, everywhere he could. She writhed under him, opening her eyes and the breath left her body at the million stars she was from her position. Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, she asked him, her voice coming out huskier than normal. "How did you..."

"I used to come here sometimes," he interrupted, muttering the words into her cleavage, nipping the top of her flesh just above her shirt. "Before. When I wanted to get away from home."

Felicity exhaled, realizing that he was sharing his special place with her, and she gripped at his head, bringing his face up to her lips and slanting her mouth across his, swiping her tongue over his, running her hands over his back. After a few seconds, he pulled back, their breathing heavy, and just looked at her, caressing her cheek with his fingers softly. He leaned down again and pecked her chastely, before pulling his sweater over his head and throwing it beside them on the ground, making Felicity gulp. He was beautiful in the moonlight, his skin shining, his corded muscles bunching over her, his scars prominent but so, so him. She reached out with tentative fingers and touched them, feeling his warmth seep into her from where her fingers touched his bare skin. 

"Oliver," she murmured breathlessly, arching towards him in abandon, without shame. There was no shame in her desire for him, it was just pure yet so dirty, her body delighted in her wanton reactions to him. He slowly unbuttoned her blouse, one torturing button after the other, letting his fingers graze the skin he exposed in the process, until the shirt was completely off her, leaving her in just her purple bra and jeans. 

She saw his eyes heat, felt that hot lust seep into her body as he lowered his mouth to just under her breasts, lips training from her navel to back. He slowly dipped his tongue into her navel, making her hips arch towards him and he took that opportunity to unclasp her bra and remove it, throwing it to the side with his sweater, exposing her to the chilly night air, making her nipples pebble harder into the night. His fingers came up to cup them and roll them, pulling and extending them, all the while his mouth bit into her hip bones and her navel, his hot desire burning its way into her body from every point of contact, mingling with her own, doubling the effect, doubling her need. 

With deft fingers, he slowly unsnapped her jeans and she lifted her hips, aiding him. With one look at her, asking for final permission which she so willingly gave, he peeled away her jeans, removing her shoes and throwing them all together to the side, least bothered by where it landed, leaving her just in her panties, which were already so, so damp. 

"You," Felicity motioned towards his own garments and he shifted slightly, losing both his underwear and jeans and shoes in a heartbeat. She stared at his aroused, erect member, marveling at the beauty of his body, made even more beautiful by his scars that extended beyond his hips, and she planted small kisses on each, beginning from his chest and making her way down, on top of him, letting him feel how glorious she thought he was, how his scars were a temple of his strength, and how she worshiped that temple, with each brush of her lips. She poured all that into his skin, marring it deep into his soul, when he suddenly flipped them, overwhelm filling her, and kissed her own body, reciprocating it.

She writhed on the mat, looking up at the stars, feeling more naked under the open sky, somehow getting more aroused because of this when she felt it. His control. Oliver was controlling himself, trying hard to focus each movement, each muscle into his bidding. And she didn't want that. She didn't want that control with her. She didn't want the Gentleman Oliver tonight, god damn it!

"Stop it, Oliver," she said softly, and felt him suddenly freeze above her breast, his mouth hovering and inch away before he started retreating. She opened her legs and wrapped it around his hips, and her arms around his neck, caging him in, and he looked at her confused.

"I didn't mean stop as in stop," she clarified. "Oh no, Mr. Queen. I am very happy at the turn of events here. Very. And you are a very, very fine specimen. No complaints there at all. What I do have a complaint about though, is your iron clad control. Nuh-uh," she shook her head as soon as she saw him open his mouth, tsking him. "There will be none of that around my vagina, okay? Or me. I mean not your strength, because you could probably crush me with your grip. But you finally have me in this amazing, unreal place and we are finally whamming and you give me control?"

Oliver was looking down at her, supporting his weight on one arm (the man was crazy strong and it was hot!) while his other brushed her cheek. "I remember how you looked, Felicity, after I let go with you. I won't bruise you again."

Felicity scoffed, earning a surprised look from him. "Oliver, the only thing you are bruising now is my feminine ego. I've been literally begging for you to just fuck me seven ways into Sunday and you have been giving me looks since forever that promise me multiple orgasms via your Little Oliver, which is not little at all by the way, like I am not even sure it'll fit but I am so willing to experiment that. I meant little as in compared to your body size. Anyways, now that you have me very willing and naked and so ready to be jack rabbited, you are going all gorilla on me? Again?"

"Felicity..."

She interrupted him, tightening her arms around him. "No, you listen to me and understand this. There is not going to be anyone else for me and yes you may have bruised me but you were angry and I am not a wallflower. I am a flesh and blood woman and I'll like it soft and rough and tons of foreplay or any way as long as its you. But for now, we have done enough mating season dancing around each other that I just need you to bang my brains out. If I get hickeys, cool, I'll cover them. If you unintentionally bruise me, I'll tell you. But I need you right now and even the internet won't be able to help you if you leave me hanging because you couldn't let go of your precious control, I swear."

Oliver's jaw was clenched by the end of her little speech and she could feel how close he was to snapping. Good. She wanted him to snap. 

She rotated her hips against his, earning a hiss from his teeth as his hand clamped down on her waist, stopping her. "Stop being such a melodrama Queen, Oliver. You keep telling me I'm yours, right?"

He grit his teeth. "You are."

She smirked and bit his chin. "Then prove it."

With a loud roar, he pulled away her legs from his waist and ripped her panties off, the cloth falling victim to his strong hands, and spread her legs wide, exposing her complete;y to the night and to his heated gaze. He bent down, and she hesitated, thinking he would kiss his way up to her center, but she was wrong. She had apparently unleashed the monster and without missing a beat, his mouth covered her, his tongue already plunging inside her, tasting her. A loud moan escaped her and she wanted to let him continue, but her body, her soul probably realized how close it was to completing the bond, and she craved him more than anything else right now. 

She gripped his hair and pulled his head up, staring deep into his blue, blue orbs and telling him wordlessly how much she needed him. He came up to her mouth, twining his tongue with hers, and she tasted herself of him, her arousal spiking to unbearable levels. 

"I'm on the pill," she told him pulling back, giving him the free reign to go ahead. "I have been since I met you. I had never had that hunger for sex before and I thought it best to be prepa..."

The rest of her words were swallowed by his mouth as his fingers touched her nether lips, plunging one, then two inside her, testing her readiness. 

"Fuck, you are so wet!" he muttered hoarsely against her mouth. 

She smiled. "What are you going to do about it, baby?"

Her challenge was the last straw on his back. With a deep rumble, he spread her legs farther, pulling them up and over his shoulders, and she thanked her yoga instructor silently for allowing this moment to happen, and placed his arms beside her head. She looked up at the stars, breathing heavily when he ground out. "Look at me!"

Swinging her eyes lower to his, she let them lock as he lined himself at her entrance. Her breath hitched and she waited with baited breath, waiting to see what he would do. She had thought he would enter her slowly. She had been wrong again. With another rumble, he thrust and buried himself to the hilt in one deep stroke, making her breath catch and a loud yell escape her lips at the sudden invasion, leaving her clinging to him. And then something happened, like that time on her kitchen counter. Something coiled deep in her belly, and she saw his eyes widen and she knew it was happening to him too. He remained inside her, unmoving, as they felt that something hook into each other, tying their beings together with some invisible cord, and with sudden clarity, she could feel him. Completely. She could feel his surprise, his arousal, his own need, his own love for her in Technicolor. She could feel every vein throbbing inside her, against her walls in such detail she would not have believed possible. Testing this, she raised her face and touched his mouth, feeling every chap, every breath, every small wet drop of his saliva, every bristle of his scruff against her skin. It was like she had suddenly become hyper sensitive to him. Hyper aware of him.

She mewled as his cock pulsated like a live being deep inside her, surrounded by her wetness, and feeling his own arousal so much better turned her hornier than she had been, than she had ever thought possible of being. This was what being in heat felt like multiplied by ten probably. Apparently agreeing with her thoughts, Oliver pulled back and out of her completely before plunging down back in, hitting her right on that elusive spot in the position, making her spine arc and her breasts to press into his chest. Before she had regained her breath, he was out and going in again, hitting the spot again and she bit her lip to keep from screaming from the intense dual feels. His thumb caught her lip, pulling it out from her teeth and he demanded roughly. "Scream for me, Felicity. I want to hear you."

His words made her clamp hard on his cock, making him hiss and pump faster in and out of her, making her moans get louder and louder and something incoherent escape her mouth as she grabbed for purchase to keep from flying off. She tilted her head back, looking at the stars as he clamped onto her exposed neck, biting and laving the area with his tongue. The only sounds in the clearing were coming from them- moans and hisses and groans and loud breaths and the sound of flesh slapping furiously against flesh. It was so fucking hot and it was so arousing and she could feel the pleasure her walls were giving him, feel the pleasure that zinged through him every time her nipples brushed across his flesh, feel the electricity that zinged through his spine every time he pushed in and pulled out again.

She was panting now, the mutual pleasures she could feel becoming too much for her senses, becoming too much for her body to take. She kept her eyes on the stars as he moved and moved and moved above her, in her, so so big and so so real, sweaty and musky and all hers. He pistoned his pelvis against her, one hand gripping her ass so tightly and keeping her in position, his mouth sucking and eating on her neck, his speed increasing and his movement gaining a momentum she had not thought possible and suddenly, without warning, her flesh clamped down hard on him as a loud scream escaped her throat, seeing stars behind her closed lids, tears escaping the corners from the excessive pleasure. Her climax rocked through her body, making her walls flutter around him as he made his pace faster, chasing her orgasm with another one, banging her brains out just like she had asked him, and another explosion rocked through her. It was too much. She couldn't take all the emotions thrust upon her and she opened her mouth, screaming silently as Oliver thrust and thrust and thrust before exploding inside her with a loud grunt, flooding her with his essence, making her twinge again around him.

She couldn't come again. She would not survive it. She bit into his arm beside her head and waited for the twinge and the flutter to pass, but it didn't, making her clamp and clench onto him, milking him for all he was worth. She bit into his arm and he bit down on her breast, setting off a last, albeit small, explosion inside her. She clung to him, as a lifeline, making him anchor her from floating out into the sky, and after minutes, she finally opened her eyes, looking back at the stars, feeling him pull out of her. A moan escaped her at the feeling and she let her legs down, feeling thoroughly used and sore and she would feel it tomorrow. She liked that.

Oliver lay down beside her, looking up at the sky too, putting a hand over his head.

Felicity turned sideways to face him, feeling the soreness in her vagina and biting back a mewl. "Wow."

He slowly turned his head to her, smiling a little. "Just wow?"

She slapped his arm. "Well, I would say I saw stars, but that would be too literal."

He grinned, and his eyes went to her neck, which she knew would be all hickeyed up. Feeling his guilt mode switching on, she vehemently shook her head. "Nuh-uh. None of that, mister. It was wow and you are not raining on that wow parade. Nope. And you have unleashed a monster. I'm warning you. I'll be using you a lot. For sex. Lots of sex. You probably wouldn't be able to walk. Me neither. But that would be so awesome. Awesome like the gentleman you and the caveman you. You."

Oliver didn't smile like she had hoped he would but just looked at her speculatively, before his eyes cleared and and he brushed his lips across hers, once before staring at her intently. "I am in love with you, Felicity." 

Her heart stopped. She had already known this for a while, courtesy of the bond, but she had never expected to hear it from a guy like him. Her heart stopped before pounding painfully again. She spoke in a teasing voice, "Are you sure it's not a post-coital...."

Before she could complete that thought, he had her on her back again, looking into her eyes deep, letting her feel everything he was, as he whispered again with a conviction that made her heart race. "I am in love with you."

A slow smile spread across her lips, as she ran her hand over his scruff, and she licked her lips. "Then show me."

He covered her mouth with hers and he did. They were bonded for life now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	18. Green Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> I'm back with another chapter for you! :)
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> The plot thickens and sexy times ;)
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He was moving up on the ladder and had she not been slightly sore from last night's round two, she would have totally jumped his bones. 

After they had gotten back early this morning, she had gone to freshen up and get ready as he had asked her to, and met him downstairs. They had gotten into the car again, seeing no one but Raisa on their way out, who had smiled sweetly at them and waved them off. And then, Oliver had driven them to his base of operations, or as she liked to call it, his Cave of Doom. It certainly felt that way. There was absolutely no light, and it was surrounded with weapons she didn't even know the names of, and the computers. Oh lord, don't even get her started on the computers. She understood that he had been away from civilization for years but _still?_

And it was located under his club. Which was actually genius if you looked at it in ways of alibis, but really, really obvious too. She had shaken her head and cracked her knuckles and gotten to the computers, which really really needed upgrades, and he had wandered off to some dummies, pulled his shirt off in one go and her mouth had watered. She had totally drooled, despite of having had him just hours earlier. And while they waited for Diggle to come, she had set the updates to load and ogled him. And she realized that watching Oliver Queen do anything _remotely_ physical was a kind of foreplay in itself. Watching him beat the shit out of dummies, watching the muscles in his back bunch and flex had made her hands itch. And then, he had moved to the blasted ladder and the neurons in her body had blasted. Completely. Watching him move up that thing right in front of her, his hips thrusting forward and his torso supporting his weight? It was _delicious_.

Another thing that she had noticed since last night was her own self. She had never been as aware of every muscle in her body, every breath in her lungs, every beat of her pulse as she was since last night. Her senses seemed heightened, everything she was seeing clearer, sharper.

She felt renewed. Oliver had renewed her with his magic penis. 

A giggle left her at the thought and he looked down at her from the ladder. Clapping a hand on her mouth, she shook her head and turned to the computers. Oh yes, magical penis definitely.

But what was even more magical was what had happened inside her body. Well, not _inside_ inside but more inside. Like deep, deep in. It was as though her body now had two different rooms for two different sets of emotions, one his and one hers and it was very clear to her which was whose. She called his room the Green Room for clarity purposes, and because it was funny. Green Room. What she felt now were two different sets of emotions at the same time. If he was angry and she sad, she felt both clearly. If he was worried and she happy, that too. And if he was aroused and so was she, she felt both, magnified to double in its intensity, almost enough to knock her to her knees. 

And since last night, the arousal had been a constant buzz in both of them. Last night had just been a taste of a very, very delicious candy which she wanted to gobble whole. She had thought that maybe their desires would be slightly sated after the enthusiastic rounds under the stars, for which alone he got a 20 on 10, but she had been wrong. The craving for each other had just worsened, the need to have each other intensified. She had lost count of the number of kisses they had stolen and shared over the morning, from small pecks to toe curling deep ones. She felt her breathing fasten and looked up at him to see his eyes on her. The moment seemed to hang for a second before he suddenly dropped to his feet with lithe grace and moved to her, his eyes intent.

Footsteps echoed on the metal stairs, and he stopped, cracking his neck and exhaling loudly. She could feel in his Green Room that it didn't help. Poor baby.

"What's going on, Oliver?"

Digg's voice jarred her from her lustful perusal of his abs. She didn't think she would ever tire of his body.

Shaking her head, putting stuff on the back burner for now, she turned to Digg with a smile. "Hey."

He smiled back warmly. "Hey, Felicity. You better now?"

Felicity grinned wickedly. "Oh, much. I had a magical..."

Digg raised his hand. "And I think I'd rather go back to Afghanistan than hear what I think you'll say."

Green Room was amused. So was Digg. Then, Green Room became somber and she knew it was time for serious talk.

"How'd the meeting go?" Digg asked, sitting on the edge of the table and Felicity tamped down the wave of disappointment that washed over her. She had expected so much but not what she had actually gotten from her father. She felt the Green Room become reassuring, and looked at him, drawing strength from his constant presence inside her, with her. And that sounded dirty even in her head.

Shaking her head, she looked at Digg again. "Well, he won't be getting the Father's day card anytime soon, that's for sure."

"That bad, huh?" Digg asked, his eyes warm and she smiled, wondering how she had gotten so lucky to have these two amazing men in her life.

"Yup," she said, popping the 'p'. "He is in on whatever they want with the earthquake machine, which cannot be good because, hello, it's an earthquake machine. And he's diabolical too. Like Oliver's mom." She paused, looking at Oliver. "I didn't mean it like, well, actually I did. But I shouldn't have. Maybe."

He shook his head. "It's alright."

Looking at him, she suddenly had a light bulb moment, her eyes widening. "You said you found the drive in Malcolm Merlyn's office, right? Your mom was meeting him in a shady manner only villains meet in the middle of the night to discuss their villainous plots. You think Tommy's father is involved? Especially given how all our fathers were a part of The League Of Extraordinarily Evil Gentleman? Except your mom, who is a woman. Well, obviously since she gave you birth. But what if he is involved? Should we tell Tommy?"

Before either of them could reply, a loud ping from the computer made her jump and she turned to it, feeling both men come to stand over her head. Green Room was thoroughly confused.

"I was running a trace," she explained to his unvoiced question. 

Green Room was even more confused and she sighed, turning her neck to his face, which was scrunched up in a way she should totally not find adorable right now. She explained further. "Since we know my dad is involved, I traced all the phone calls he has made since Walter's abduction for anything shady, well shadier, and I just got a hit on a number he has dialed every two days, which further traces back to this house block outside Starling with _way_ too much security than an innocent house block should have."

She turned to look at them, to see them having a silent conversation, and Oliver turned to her. "I'll go check it out."

She frowned. "Shouldn't Digg go with you, for back up?"

Oliver shook his head. "He'll stay here to keep you safe."

Felicity's blinked, and then she laughed. "Seriously, Oliver? You'll have Digg stay to protect me in a secret Cave that no one knows about, than have him go with you as back up to this super shady location outside of town where reaching you would take at least an hour which is too long?"

His lips pursed. Green Room was getting frustrated. Well, so was she. She crossed her arms over her chest and crossed her legs. "Not happening, babe."

She turned to Digg. "Is there any hole in my logic?"

Digg smirked slightly, shaking his head. "No, ma'am. Bullet proof logic."

Triumphant she turned back to Oliver, seeing his jaw clench as he marched away to his suit, and to the back to get changed. Green Room was way more frustrated than before. She shrugged and saw Digg working his guns.

He spoke without looking up. "You want to tell me what's with the whole silent communication thing?"

Felicity blinked, surprised that he had noticed anything, then grinned. "It involves something 'magical'. You sure you still want to know?"

"Nope."

A giggle left her at that and she got two earpieces out, handing it to him. "I can direct you guys with this. Put in in your ears and make Mr. Grumpy put it on too. All the best."

Shaking his head, smiling, Diggle took the pieces and went up the stairs. She twirled in her chair, watching as Oliver came out in his suit, the leather doing absolutely nothing to hide his muscles, with the hood up, and went up without saying a word. Green Room was annoyed, but now she was pissed. He had just left? No 'see you soon' or goodbye kiss or even a growly 'stay here'. Tamping down her anger, she turned to the computers, switching gears in her head, and focusing on the mission at hand. They could work on his grumpy ways later.

She connected the earpiece and worked away, trying to get the images from the satellite on the screen. She could hear the whir of the bike as he sped across the town and the quiet hum of Digg's van. Almost half an hour later, she unmuted the coms, and directed them over the area.

Oliver parked his bike, inching forward slowly, as she could see on the multiple windows she had opened. His Green Room was completely focused and alert, the stealth in his movements telling. Taking a deep breath and reining her worry so it wouldn't distract him, she focused as well and spoke quietly. "Three men on the gates. Armed with big guns."

He did not speak but she knew he had heard, since he changed directions and went up behind the men. Her heart was in her throat as she watched the grainy images, watching him put a hand over one man's mouth, rendering him unconscious, before taking the other two. In seconds the three were on the ground and he moved in. 

She quickly pulled up the thermal images, spotting him moving forward. "Corridor on your left. Two men coming."

The three orange dots collided and one moved forward, leaving the other two stationary. 

She looked at the thermal scans, frowning at one particular image. "There is a huge heat signature coming from inside the house. Definitely not a person."

"Direct me," his modulated voice said quietly. 

Biting her lip, she shook her head. "I need to see what it is first. In case if it is a bomb, you need to vacate the premises."

She felt his frustration mount. "There wouldn't be these many guards if it was a bomb."

Fair point. Trusting his instincts, she guided him through a throng of guards, towards huge room that held whatever the hot thing was. She saw his dot enter the room and stop, his breath hitching. Green Room was surprised.

"Tell me what you see," she demanded, fingers hovering over the keyboard to just move at a second's notice.

"It's a machine," his modulated voice said. "A big machine."

"Describe it to me," she ordered, curiosity overcoming her.

His dot moved closer to the hot body, which she knew was a machine, going around it. "It is big, at least 6 feet, and metallic, but not iron. Some alloy I think. And there is this piece in the center with a lot of wires."

Heart pounding, praying that her hunch was wrong, or maybe right, she pulled up the schematics from the thumb drive for the Markov device and sent it to him. "I just sent you a picture. Is this it?"

There was silence for a beat, then his hard voice spoke. "Yes."

Well, hell. They had found the earthquake machine. 

"Can we deactivate it?" Digg's voice cut in for the first time.

Felicity shook her head. "Well, I can but I'll have to see it. And how do we know there is not another one that they can trigger if this is deactivated. They'll know we found it and just move it to another location."

Her irrefutable logic silenced them both, before Oliver's modulated voice came on. "I'm taking the circuit board."

"What?" she got up and started pacing, unable to sit back any longer. "No. It'll alert them."

"We can't not do anything!"

Green Room's anger and frustration was seeping into her. She rubbed her forehead, trying to stay calm. "I know. But we can't afford to alert them that we know about the device. You need to tell me what wires you see and quickly."

Her phone pinged and she looked down. He had sent her a picture. Smart move.

She opened it and compared it quickly with the schematics, slowly speaking. "I need you to cut the remove the red wire in the middle and attach it to the second knob on the right. That way the device would be dysfunctional for some time and it would look like a natural mistake."

There was silence as he worked, her heart thumping loudly in her chest, and finally, after minutes, he spoke. "Done. Now what?"

A breath of relief left her and she nodded to herself. "Good. Now, I want you to get out to the main door without being seen, and make a fuss about where Walter is."

She felt his slight confusion and explained. "It'll throw them off. They'll think you came for Walter and don't know about the machine as deep as it is in the house."

"Okay."

After his curt response, she leaned over her chair and watched his dot move back out to the entrance, where three other dots were waiting. "Three for company."

His modulated voice rang out, booming across the com, making her flinch a little. 

"Where is Walter Steele?"

The men didn't respond, their dots moving in on his dot, sounds of scuffling following it. Her eyes remained glued to his dot, her knuckles white with the grip she had on her chair, when it moved out of the house and she breathed a sigh of relief. She saw him emerge on the cameras outside before he disappeared in the woods. 

"On my way," he said and she heard his bike start. 

"Copy that," Digg replied and started the van. Felicity slumped back in her chair, feeling slightly drained. How did he do this every night? 

Shaking her head at herself, she suddenly realized something. He had been miles away and the Green Room was still there in her. Which meant proximity was not a deterrent at all, like she had thought it would be. Good. It definitely made things easier knowing that.

While waiting for them to get back, she got up, walking around the cave, exploring it. It definitely needed to be remodeled. There was so much potential and so much space. Her eyes moved to his training equipment, to the medical supplies and finally, to the stand where his arrows were displayed. Hesitating, she picked up a small one, feeling the heavy metal weight in her hand and put it down. Curious, she picked up the bigger one from the stand. Oh boy, it was _heavy_. How did Oliver even manage to shoot that thing, that too straight at the target, that too on the run? And the arrowhead was sharp. Big. 

Hearing the footsteps on the staircase, she turned to the men descending swiftly and spoke. "Your arrowhead is big."

Oliver faltered on the last step while Diggle choked on a laugh, and she slapped her forehead, pursing her mouth. Why, oh why did she say stuff like this?

"What I meant was this arrowhead. Not the other arrowhead. Although that is big too. Quiet big in fact. I'm not..."

Diggle coughed twice and she flushed, putting the arrow down and turning her back on them. Green Room was highly amused. Ass.

Changing the topic, she spoke, her voice slightly louder than normal. "So what do we do now that we know the location of the device?"

Oliver set his bow down in it's case and replied, "Well, I'll talk to my mother tonight. Confront her about what she knows."

Her heart clenched. "Oliver."

"It needs to be done, Felicity. I've put it off for way too long."

Nodding in understanding, she asked. "But what if they move the device?"

Oliver's lips curled up slightly. "I put a small tracer under it. We'll know."

Surprised, she tilted her head at him. "Smart. I must be rubbing off on you."

She saw his eyes darken and swallowed about to speak when Diggle interrupted. "I'll take this as my cue to leave. Call me when you get to the house."

Clapping Oliver on the shoulder, with a small smile and head shake at her, he climbed up the stairs and left, leaving them alone in the basement.

She flushed. "When do you think I'll stop mortifying myself in front of people?"

Oliver slowly sauntered towards her, his movement slow and predatory, a small smile on his lips. She bit her own, feeling the arousal that had been buzzing in her since morning come to the forefront with a vengeance. Green Room was getting hotter too, making her so, so hot in turn. Oliver stopped before her, still in his leathers, his eyes smeared with her green grease paint, looking down at her. He raised a hand, tracing her lip she was biting with his finger, releasing it from her teeth, rubbing it to life and her insides caught fire with that one movement, from that one look. Slowly, keeping his eyes on hers, he went down on his knees, just staring up at her, not speaking. 

Green Room was determined, on fire. His hands slowly came to rest on her hips, and suddenly, he pulled, rolling her chair forward, hooking her legs over his shoulders, eliciting a gasp from her. The low lighting cast his face in shadows, giving him a more mysterious aura, especially since he still wore his suit. 

His hands pushed up her skirt, bunching it to her waist and her hips squirmed on the chair needing to get closer. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he bent forward, pulling aside her cotton panties. She felt his warm breath on her, waiting, killing her, before he finally licked a long stripe over her clit. Her hips arched off her chair and her head fell back, eyes closing.

"Look at me."

With effort, her insides swirling with lust, lust that was taking over her body and his, both that she could feel, she looked back down at him and bit her lips. He moved in again, eyes on hers, and plunged his tongue into her in one go and a loud moan escaped her. Her hands came up to grip his hair as she kept her eyes on his, watching him taste her, feeling his burning desire in her own body so clearly, and the sight turned her on so much more. Her heightened senses felt each flick of his tongue, each prickle of his scruff against her thighs, each brush of his teeth against her flesh, but most of all, it felt the way he was watching her with his eyes, watching her pleasure, watching her watch him eating her out and her thighs quivered around his head before she knew it, her spine arching completely, pushing herself harder into his mouth, and she exploded, her hips moving, working on his mouth, her eyes finally clenched, her hands gripping his skull and keeping him there. Slowly, her body still twitching, she came down from the high, to see him sitting on his haunches, looking up at her slightly amused. 

"Does this make up for the no goodbye kiss?"

She blinked at him, her mind still glazed over and looked down at her thighs. Her skin was smeared with green from his paint, and the sight aroused her more than she thought it would. She blinked at him again, a small smile taking over her face. "Don't think you can weasel your way out like this."

His dimple peeked out from under his scruff and he stood up. "So that means I'm not forgiven?"

"Nope."

Eyes glinting, pupils blown wide, he leaned over her, speaking in his low, husky voice. "Just means I'll have to try harder."

She gulped, and suddenly, his hands were under her ass, lifting her from the chair, an embarrassing shriek leaving her as she clung to him for purchase. Turning them, he sat down in her chair, planting his feet solidly on the ground, and now she was straddling him. Oh man, did his ability to flip her like a pancake turn her on or what!

This position had her in the driver's seat, right on his erection. She grounded herself hard on him and he hissed, his hands gripping her butt, the Green Room flaring with fire at her movement. Biting her lip, she pulled her shirt over her head while his hands snapped off her bra, going next to his own jacket.

"No," she spoke, her voice husky. "Leave it on."

His eyes heated at her request and he pulled her forward, pressing small kisses into her neck, the tone of their arousal changing, becoming softer somehow. She turned her head, pressing her lips the side of his forehead, running her hands through his hair while he slowly unzipped his pants, freeing himself. Straddling him, she locked her eyes with his, gripping his length in one hand, hearing his soft groan, before sinking down onto him. 

Yes, she was still a little sore, and yes he still felt very big, but she didn't care. This mattered. Their joining together was more than physical, every time, and they both knew it. It had changed them, changed everything. Taking him one inch after another, slowly, letting her muscles accommodate his girth, every nerve in her body alive and zinging, every muscle in her walls feeling him, she sunk. Finally, he was completely inside her, and they both stilled, just savoring the feeling, still so new but so important to them.

One hand supporting her hip, he traced her cheeks with his other, his blue, heated eyes holding so many emotions she did not have a name for. She ran her fingers over his ears, his scruff, and he looked back at her, his gaze quiet, deep, intense.

"Thank you."

His whispered words made her heart clench and finally, since they had come down to the cave, she touched her mouth to his, kissing him sweetly, letting him feel her love for him. He kissed her back, so so reverent it made her heart ache. This man had seen so much pain, so much destruction. He deserved so much happiness.

The thought made her walls clamp down on him, fluttering around his length embedded deep inside her, and she kissed him with renewed vigor, rotating her hips very slowly over him. The groan that rumbled from deep in his chest made her clench harder around him and he pulled his mouth back, attacking her neck softly, licking and nibbling and tasting her skin, smearing his green everywhere he touched.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, and bracing her weight on her knees, she pulled up slowly, feeling him vacate her body inch by torturous inch before sinking down hard, making them both gasp. The emotions inside her were colliding, the Green Room aroused but so reverent. Her blood was heating as she moved up and down on him, flexing her hips, rotating it, eliciting different sounds from both of them every time. It was not hard and fast like it had been last night. This was slow, burning her from the inside out, the fire spreading from where she was connected to him to outwards, taking over her body, mixing with his fire.

The pleasure, soft and slow as it was, was making her toes curl and her legs ached but she kept moving, letting the fire burn brighter, feeling her muscles start to tremble and her body start to shake.

"Oliver. Oliver," she was panting softly, hearing his own hard breath on her neck. And out of nowhere, her climax hit her again, making her arch completely into him, her walls squeezing around him so hard that he came too with a loud groan, thrusting up into her so hard he was almost off the chair, flooding her, his hands gripping onto her body while she rode it out slowly, the desire sated but not leaving their bodies.

Both of them were gasping, looking at each other, and Felicity felt her heart flutter along with her muscles as he stayed inside her. "I love you."

His eyes closed, a small smile on his lips. "I love you."

They stayed like that for sometime, catching their breaths and she rejoiced in this feeling, knowing that despite of bad guys and big issues and arguments, they would always have this. She would always have him. 

His Green Room agreed.

 

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	19. Push Ups and Pull Downs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> The plot thickens and sexy times ;)
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Moira Queen was in Central City for the night on a business meeting and would be returning tomorrow evening, as Raisa had very helpfully informed Oliver and Felicity when they had returned to the mansion, thus flushing all Oliver's plans of confronting his mother tonight down the gutter. Oliver had sighed, rubbed a hand over his face and gone off to find Digg, leaving her to return to her guest room.

That had been a few hours ago and Felicity had no idea what he was doing, but she didn't care much because his Green Room was blissfully un-angsty and she was just wrapping up on the project she had been working on and updating the computers in the Cave remotely from her tablet. Multitasking. She just put on the finishing touches to the QC work that she had to submit to her supervisor on Monday and picked up the phone just as it rang.

"Hey, Sty," Felicity greeted happily, typing away on her tablet.

"Hello, stranger," Stana's bright voice came from the other line. "How are you?"

Felicity grinned, leaning back on the cushions, putting her tab aside. "Very good."

She could practically see the glint in Stana's eyes. "Ahem, ahem. Why does that sound like something happened?"

Felicity bit the inside of her cheek and asked innocently. "What do you mean, Sty?"

"Oh, cut it out, Fell. I know you. Spill," Stana huffed. "How was it?"

A giggle left Felicity before she could stop it. "Better than I had thought."

"I want details! Tell me!"

Felicity bit her lip. "Well, it was a long time coming. No pun intended. And it was under the stars."

"Are you serious?" Stana asked, the disbelief evident in her tone. "You guys banged under the stars? Out in the open? Seriously?"

Felicity felt her face flush. "It was a private spot."

After a beat of silence, Stana spoke. "How many orgasms?"

Felicity giggled. "Which time?"

Stana groaned. "You are killing me here, Fell. I have to say Queen has impressed me."

Felicity chuckled, settling in the fluffy cushions. "Yeah me too. What's up with you?"

They spoke for quite some time, laughing and giggling over things and finally hung up, promising to meet the next Friday, just as the door to her room opened and Oliver entered.

A smile involuntarily lifted her mouth as he came forward and stood beside the bed, frowning down at her. Green Room was frowny too.

"What?" she asked, tilting her head.

He huffed in frustration, looking at her. "I need to know, Felicity. I can't take my mind off it!"

Felicity sighed, taking a hold of his hand and pulling him down. "You can't do anything right now, Oliver."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I know. That's what is bothering me."

Felicity smiled, shrugging. "Why don't you work it off?"

He looked at her sharply and she groaned. "I didn't mean it like that. Like why don't you work out? I know you feel better after that."

A small gleam entered his eyes as he looked her up and down, his gaze heating and the Green Room getting turned on. "Normal workout won't help right now."

She swallowed. "Then what will?"

"A challenge."

Felicity raised her eyebrow at that, her own blood heating up. "You want me to challenge you?"

Oliver smirked, and she could see that carefree playboy who had devastated women in that one smirk. "I'm challenging you to challenge me."

Her eyes narrowed at that. He was deliberately needling her. He knew how much she rose to challenges. Well, two could play the game. Tilting her head, she smirked back at him, arching her spine deliberately, seeing his eyes draw to her breasts before coming back to hers.

"I challenge you, Mr. Queen, to do twenty push ups, with me on your back."

She saw his eyebrows hike as his dimple came out. "Only twenty?"

Was twenty seriously that less? "It's only the first challenge. And one of the few things on my list."

His eyes heated. "Accepted, Ms. Smoak."

Before she could blink, he was up and removing his t-shirt, throwing it away on the carpet, and she gulped looking at his bare torso so close to her. Would she ever not be surprised at how beautiful he was? Would her blood ever not heat in her veins just looking at him? Would she ever not want to hump him every moment she breathed?

Shaking her head at herself, she saw him drop gracefully on the floor on his hands, literally in slow motion and how the hell was falling in slow motion even possible? His biceps thickened as he supported his weight, the muscles on his back glistening, the scars just making him seem larger than he was, Green Room amused and aroused in equal measure as he waited for her.

Getting off the bed slowly, she kept her eyes on him, and took off her shirt, watching his breathing get heavier as his eyes looked up at her, and feeling smug at his response, she shimmied out of the jeans as gracefully as she could, which she honestly couldn't, and stood there only in her underwear. Slowly, she picked up her tablet, ignoring his eyes and his heated reaction, and slowly sat down sideways on the burn marks at the small of his back, which was not small at all, and looked down at the updates. Her skin was clawing with heat, every single cell in her body aware of not only him, but herself. From the way her nipples brushed against the cotton of her bra to the way her skin touched his and every drop of sweat she could feel forming on his back, she could feel everything in with such heightened sensitivity, and it turned her on even more.

She felt him rise with her seated on his back, and tried to focus on her tablet and not the Green Room which was all out blazing now. He continued the push ups and the fact that he could do them so effortlessly with her entire weight on top of him was doing a lot of things to her. Good lord, his strength was very, very hot.

He continued them and she counted in her head, feeling the sweat gather more and more on his back, making it slippery but still rising and falling with him, watching from her spot the rough dragon tattoo on his back. After the fifth one, she put aside her tablet, and let her hands explore his back, hearing the small hitch in his breathing, feeling the muscles shift beneath her palm as she touched the textures of the scars and the tattoo, his skin slick with sweat. After twenty very fast push ups, he stopped, his husky voice sounding rougher. "What is the next challenge?"

She swallowed, thinking wildly about her list and spoke. "I, um, want you to do push ups above me."

She felt him still beneath her and before she could get up, he had her under him, a squeal escaping her mouth at his lightening fast reflexes, as he spread her legs, his arousal nestling right against her, his chest brushing her very hard nipples, as he looked down at her wide eyes, breathing heavily and not from the workout.

"How many?"

Her heart stuttered at his rough question and she gulped. "Ten."

Without another word, keeping his eyes locked on hers, he placed his hands beside her head, Green Room burning wildly now, and pushed up his body slowly, his chest, pelvis, face all moving up from her. Slowly, he came down and she gasped as he let her feel his entire body, his erection pushing against her core, making her spread her legs even wider, his chest pressing completely into her breasts and his mouth just a hair-breadth away from hers. But before she could close the distance between them, he was pushing up again and away, with a small smirk at her, knowing how close she was to evaporating.

He came down again and this time she couldn't contain her moan, her head tilting back as he thrust over her cotton clad clit and pressing into her chest again, her over heightened senses making her arch into him but he pushed up again and she almost cursed, glaring at him. Dang it! He was enjoying teasing her like this.

He came down again and she raised her hand to touch him. He had her arms pinned beside her head in a second, not allowing her any movement while he continued his push ups and dang her it made her wetter. With each downward sweep he would slowly brush his mouth over her neck, or lick at her lips, while attacking her senses with his own, and pull away, making the hunger gnaw inside her. Why couldn't she have just said one?!

Finally, finally, it was the last one and he pushed up, keeping his eyes on hers, pausing, waiting, and she was panting now, before swooping down and slanting his mouth over hers. They collided like two trains coming from the opposite tracks, their mouths fighting each other for dominance, their tongues clashing in their needs to quench this thirst for their bodies. He kept a hold of her hands, his sweat slicked skin pressing over hers, sliding against him and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling his closer to where she needed him.

Coming up for air, his mouth went down her neck, biting and tasting and she arched into him even more, needing him.

"Enough with the foreplay, Oliver," she muttered, her pulse pounding as he bit into it, making her core throb. "I need your magic penis."

He paused above her and she clenched her eyes shut, not wanting to see the amusement she could feel in Green Room. "Magic penis?"

She bit her lip against the torrent of words she was sure would be bubbling out any second and opened her mouth. "It's just I have this sensitivity now in my entire body. Like I throb and feel everywhere and everything and it was magical and it already is with the whole soulmate thing and it happened that night under the stars. i first thought of it as your wand but that felt weird so now its magic penis okay?"

She kept her eyes closed, waiting for him to say something. Green Room was highly amused but the man wasn't saying anything. Suddenly, she felt him bury his face in her neck and his entire body shaking. She blinked her eyes open, looking at him sideways, and that's when she realized he was all out laughing, the small snorts right against her ear and she flushed, slightly embarrassed but happy to have him laughing. He pulled back to look down at her, his eyes crinkled at the corners and his dimple lethal, smiling at her, brushing his nose against hers. "God, I love you."

His whisper made her heart clench like it always did and she smiled back. "That's great, but can we get back to the whole no appetizer, straight to the main course thing?"

He chuckled softly, his hands letting go of her hands, letting her touch his damp skin and rid her of her clothes, ridding himself of his and coming back between her legs. He moved his hand down her left thigh, caressing the skin under the knee and hiking it up to her chest, opening her in a way she never had before. His other hand held him up from crushing her as he lined up, brushing himself against her folds.

"Are you sore?"

She flushed, which was ridiculous considering how naked and intimate they already were. "A bit."

He smiled, his mouth coming down on hers in a soft, languid kiss, his stubble rasping over her skin, and she was pretty sure her entire mouth and chin and cheeks and neck would be suffering from beard burns. Oh, she wouldn't have it any other way.

He entered her slowly, carefully, the angle of her one leg hiked up making him slide in easier that she would have thought, till he was buried completely to the hilt. She didn't think his size would ever stop surprising her.

"Gah, you feel so good," she muttered as he littered her neck with kisses and bites.

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm," she whispered on a ragged breath, biting her lip. He pulled out slowly before entering her again, hard and she keened, not having realized that this angle made him hit her g-spot directly.

"You must have, ah," she panted as he started moving his hips slowly, pulling back and thrusting in again, hitting her spot again, "had a lot, oh my god, practice, ah yes, for this."

He bit the underside of her jaw as her fingers dug into his back. "It didn't matter."

His rough growl against her skin turned her on even more as she closed her eyes, letting herself feel everything happening over her, inside her, letting herself feel his tremendous arousal for her, his aching hunger for her, the need in his groin to take her.

"Faster, Oliver."

He groaned, his hips speeding up slightly but still very much slow. "You're sore, Felicity," he reminded her.

"Screw sore," she muttered, thrusting back at him. "C'mon, baby. Faster."

With a loud groan, he gave up and thrust inside her so hard he mind blanked out for a second, her walls clamping all over him, gripping him like they would never let go. He pulled out and pushed in again, his movements getting more erratic, the angle of his penetration making her cry out over and over again.

She felt his arousal reach it's peak, his movements getting wilder as he thrust into her, nipping at her jaw. "Fuck, Felicity. I'm close."

Knowing she had to come with him, she gripped his hair with one hand, pulling him up for a heated kiss, and put her other finger on her clit, rubbing it furiously, feeling him enter her again and again, feeling him get so turned on knowing what she was doing and the sensation was more than she could bear. With a cry drowned around his tongue, she felt her entire body lift up the carpet as her walls quivered around him, exploding in heat, her finger on her nub stopping. His own replaced it, rubbing it continuously, prolonging her climax as she shook in his arms, clamping all around him, gripping his hair so hard and kissing him for all she was worth. Her clenching walls spurred him on and with a sound deep from his gut, he came too, thrusting just one last time inside her, before collapsing on top of her, breathing heavily.

She wrapped her arms around him, mewling in pleasure as he pulled out of her, and dropped to the side.

Catching their breaths together, she grinned up at him, feeling icky and knowing she would have to take a bath, but happy.

"Will we ever reach a bed one day?" she asked, amused, looking at the soft, fluffy bed just five feet away from them.

He chuckled, looking back at her. "One day."

She shook her head in amusement, feeling her muscles ache, and realized she had carpet burns to go with the beard burns.

The Green Room was too blissed out to notice. She chuckled and got up, heading to the bathroom, and looked back at him coyly, raising her eyebrows.

"Are you coming?"

She watched with a grin as he huffed out a laugh, but got up to follow. Round two.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

 

Felicity stood outside Moira Queen's study, well originally Robert Queen's study, and swallowed. She had been very strong and convincing with her logic when persuading Oliver to let her be the one to talk to his mother, and he had adamantly refused for the good portion of an hour, after caving in because her logic had been irrefutable. Since she already had confronted her father, and now she was sure the group of diabolical people knew about it, and plus Moira Queen already hated her, so it would make sense for her to be the one to confront her and not open the green can of worms that was Oliver and his leather hobby. Oliver had taken a lot of time to come around, especially after all the sex which had made him get even more gorilla on her, but he had come around, again with the same clause that he would listen in like he had with her father.

She had agreed and hence she stood, her gut churning, waiting for doomsday. Well, she was being dramatic but nobody could fault her. That woman was scary. Very, very intimidating and Felicity did not feel ashamed in admitting that she was intimidated. But alas, she had to march ahead and take one for the team, so to speak.

March ahead she did, and knocked on the door. She had been told by Raisa that Mrs. Queen liked to work in her study after dinner. Dinner had been done almost an hour ago. And Oliver was in his room, and she was pretty sure he was pacing with all the nervous energy in his body. The Green Room was impatient and slightly anxious. She could understand. She had been there two days ago.

They had spent yesterday making love and sleeping and just talking to each other. She had told him a lot about her family and Mrs. N and how she would love Oliver if they met, about Cooper and how she met Stana and so many other things, as had he. He had told her of life before the island, of Thea's birth, his parents' expectations, of Laurel and his fear of commitment back then. He had spoken a little about the island too but she had felt how his gut had ached so she had stopped him with a soft kiss and snuggled to sleep, feeling his relief and love for her in that moment. She had then reminded him that she had to go back to living in her apartment, to which he had stiffened and asked her not to till this mess was all over. And she had agreed to stay because he had asked and not ordered like she had thought he would do. His Green Room had smirked at her surprise.

And that had made her wonder if he had a room for her in his body. Like she knew he did feel everything she did because of the solidified bond, but she wondered if he had named it. He didn't seem like the naming type. Maybe Pink Room? Felicity's Cave? My Other Half?

She sniggered at her own thoughts and then knocked again, shaking her head an focusing.

The door was pulled open and Moira Queen looked at her in slight surprise before those judgy eyes came back. "Ms. Smoak?"

"Mrs. Queen," Felicity responded to the icy greeting. "I was wondering if I could speak with you?"

Moira Queen raised her eyebrows and stepped back, allowing Felicity to enter the space. She hesitated for a second but did, closing the door behind her as the older woman went to her desk, leaning against it with her hands folded in front of her. Felicity might dislike the woman but she had to admit she had more class in her little finger than most women Felicity had seen.

"I hope you feel well, Ms. Smoak," the woman began politely, her eyes cold on her face and Felicity fought a small wave of discomfort.

"I am," she replied just as politely.

Moira Queen tilted her head to the side, so like her son, and spoke. "I had not thought you would be one of my son's many women, Ms. Smoak. I had thought you had more dignity than staying in his house with him like this."

Felicity tamped down the anger she could feel both in herself and the Green Room rise at the words and smiled instead, knowing it would grate on the woman's nerves. "With all due respect, my relationship your son is not your concern. The only thing that should concern you about me is that I am here to stay in Oliver's life, Mrs. Queen."

"Not if I have any say in the matter."

Felicity smiled, stepping forward. "You don't. That's the beauty of a committed relationship between two consenting adults. But I'm not here to talk about that."

Moira Queen's lips pursed, her eyes narrowing. "Then what are you here to talk about?"

Felicity inhaled deeply, the mixed anxiousness in her gut churning. "The Markov device."

She watched closely as Moira Queen stilled and watched her with surprise before making her face blank. "What is that?"

A snort left Felicity before she could stop it. "Seriously? You're pulling that card with me?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Ms. Smoak."

Felicity paused for a second, doubting herself. Could they have been wrong? But her eyes went to the other woman and she hardened herself. Getting Moira Queen to talk would be the biggest task on earth. The woman had made diversion an art form. Well, she was no less stubborn.

Ignoring the turmoil in the Green Room, she went ahead. "Well, since you won't admit, I'll tell you what I know and then you'll know it's a waste of time lying to me. QC brought Unidac 2 months ago to gain access to the device, and since Walter was CEO and nosing around, he was kidnapped and put out of the way and you took up the mantle, giving your evil plan the green light. With him out of the picture, you and Malcolm Merlyn and a bunch of other people can use the earthquake machine without being charged with anything. And I know that you knew I suspected something which was why your little group has tried to weed me out as well."

Moira Queen started to speak but Felicity raised a hand, stopping her. "And don't bother denying it. I literally had all of this confirmed by the lead scientist working on the device at Unidac, who if you did your research right, you would know is my father. Yes, he is. It's a long story."

The woman's mouth hardened as did her eyes. "What do you want?"

Aha. So now they were moving ahead. Felicity straightened herself, walking around. "I want answers. I hate mysteries."

"And why would you think," Moira Queen asked, walking around the room to the liquor cabinet, "I would tell you anything? All your claims might be baseless. Who would believe you?"

Exhaling loudly, she silently apologized to Oliver, knowing this would be getting very, very dirty. Moira Queen smiled slightly, thinking Felicity had bowed back.

Felicity closed her eyes and opened them, speaking. "Oliver would."

Moira Queen's glass of wine stopped on the way to her mouth, her eyes quickly cutting to Felicity. "No, he wouldn't. I'm his mother. You are just a girl he has been passing his time with for a few days."

Anger, both hers and Oliver's, slowly reared up inside her and Felicity stepped forward, standing to her full height. "You know Oliver is not passing his time with me. You just won't admit it to either of us. And secondly, you are his mother. He trusts you. What do you think will happen to that trust when I show him what is inside the warehouse of the company his mother purchased?"

The woman's eyes widened and she put the glass down, shaking slightly. Felicity plowed on. "Yes, Mrs. Queen. I know The Queen's Gambit was sabotaged. I have the proof to out you to the world as the woman who was a part of the conspiracy that killed her husband and stranded her son on an island for five years. You think it would be hard to convince anybody after all that that you had a hand in your second husband's abduction as well? You think I won't find other skeletons if I look in your closet?"

Moira Queen's hand trembled as she wiped it over her face, her back ramrod straight. Felicity allowed her that moment of silence, let her ponder, before the older woman sighed in resignation and turned back to Felicity, suddenly looking so very tired that Felicity felt a sudden pang of sympathy for her.

"I am doing what I do to keep my family safe, Ms. Smoak," she said softly, gazing at her with eyes so like Oliver's.

Felicity took another step forward. "So am I. I love your family, Mrs. Queen, or I wouldn't be here doing this at all."

Moira Queen tilted her head, considering her. "You really do, don't you?"

Felicity just looked back at her solemnly, letting the woman process. Moira Queen spoke again, leaning back against the counter. "What do you wish to know?"

Felicity would have fist pumped in cracking the woman but the situation was grim and fist pumps were not. And she was still somber. "Is Walter still alive?"

"Yes," the older woman nodded. "That was the only way I could let him be abducted."

Well, she wouldn't have let him be abducted at all, but what did she know about their marriage? Shrugging, feeling the way the Green Room was on alert and hanging on to every word via the open phone line, she asked. "Who all are involved in this, this, well scheme?"

Moira Queen rubbed her forehead, sighing. "Robert used to have a notebook. It has the names of all the people involved."

Felicity blinked, suddenly it all clicking into place. "The same notebook Walter had me look into," she muttered softly. The same notebook Oliver used to hunt corrupt people. The same notebook he had gotten from his father. It was all a smaller part of this?

Barely able to contain the questions anymore, she crossed her arms over her chest. "And who leads this group?"

Moira Queen looked away, staring into space and remained silent. Felicity huffed in frustration. "Loyalty won't help you, Mrs. Queen. I can. Tell me."

She looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. "You are saying you won't tell Oliver any of this?"

Felicity ignored the question and asked again. "Who is leading this?"

Moira Queen sighed. "Malcolm Merlyn."

Felicity felt both hers and Oliver's heart sink. This would destroy Tommy. Frack.

"And what does he need an earthquake machine for?"

Moira Queen huffed out on an exhale. "You are so smart, Ms. Smoak. Why don't you tell me?"

Felicity ignored the taunt, shaking her head in disbelief. "For an earthquake? Are you serious?"

Moira Queen nodded. "To level the Glades. To cleanse it of its crime."

Felicity's jaw dropped. "What kind of twisted god-complex is this?"

The older woman sighed again. "He believes the Glades can rebuild itself after it is destroyed."

"And you agree with this?"

Suddenly, Moira Queen got up. "You assume I have a choice, Ms. Smoak. Malcolm already sabotaged the Gambit as an example to anybody daring to defy him. He will not hesitate in killing my children if I do anything!"

Felicity's heart pounded in her chest, her hand clapping her mouth, as everything fell into place. "It was your husband who had been involved with this scheme, wasn't it? But he rebelled and Malcolm Merlyn destroyed the yacht, killing him. And you didn't know, did you? You and no idea or Oliver would never have been on that boat. Oh, frack! And you had to stand in for Mr. Queen."

The haunted expression on the woman's face made Felicity reach out her hand to keep on her arm. For all diabolical intents and purposes, Moira Queen had just been a lioness protecting her cubs. And Felicity actually felt bad for the life she had had to lead, so many lies, so many issues. What must that life be like? Knowing something was monstrous but being unable to stop it for the sake of your children's lives?

Felicity squeezed her arm softly. "I am truly sorry for what you have been through, Mrs. Queen."

Moira Queen's surprised eyes met hers for long seconds before she smiled tremulously. "Thank you. Please don't tell my son, Ms. Smoak. He is happy. This would destroy him."

Felicity sighed, shaking her head. "I have to tell Oliver, Mrs. Queen. But you can have this as a chance to redeem yourself. When is it going down?"

Moira Queen straightened at the question and pulled back. "Next Sunday. On 16th."

Felicity nodded, taking a step back. "Thank you for your honesty, Mrs. Queen."

She turned to leave when Moira Queen's voice stopped her. "Ms. Smoak?"

"Yes?"

"These are dangerous people," she began, piercing her with her gaze. "I didn't know about the threats to your life, but rest assured, if you were being threatened before, you will be hunted now. Don't get in the way and you might live."

Felicity steeled her spine against the warning, speaking firmly. "I won't live knowing I could have done something to stop this monstrosity."

They stared each other down for a few more seconds before Felicity exited the room, turning right in the corridor, finally able to focus on the swirls of emotions erupting inside her. Oliver was shocked and hurt and more betrayed than she had thought he would be. It had to be so hard, knowing your own parent was indirectly responsible for something like this. The Green Room was raging and she knew if she didn't go see him then, he would run out somewhere and brood alone in some dark corner of his own mind.

She turned towards his room, pulling the phone out of her pocket when suddenly a hand clamped over her face, smothering her mouth. She felt the panic in her rising as she struggled, trying to kick free and away from whoever was holding her, but the man was immovable. She felt the Green Room light up in alert at her panic, and knew Oliver would be on his way down to her. Taking strength for that thought, she knew she only had to hold off the attacker for a few more minutes and Oliver would be there.

Kicking and making as many sounds from her throat as she could she was about to bite hard on the man's hand when she felt a knife sliding into her abdomen, the pain burning through her skin and making her eyes water as she screamed as loudly as she could with the hand clamped on her mouth. She could feel the energy seeping out with her blood, feel herself getting colder and colder, her eyes getting harder to keep open. She could feel Oliver getting more and more frantic as he must have felt her slipping away.

The man picked her up and she didn't have the energy to struggle anymore, her lids getting heavier as her legs crumpled beneath her, Oliver's panic drifting further away from her. She felt herself being pulled down and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	20. Knife Wounds Suck The Worst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!   
> I know this is slightly late and I apologize.   
> So, while writing this, I realized that this story is almost finished. Just two more chapters to go, and we are done. And that makes me both sad and happy. I'll write a big note in the last chapter but this is just to inform you it's almost done. 
> 
> Anyhow, here is the next chapter. Hope you like it!
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> Do drop me a line with your thoughts!
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> Happy reading!

It was the burning sensation in her stomach that woke her up, gasping for air. She inhaled deeply and cried out at the sudden pain that flared through her abdomen, making her look down and put her hand from where the pain was coming. She felt the wet, sticky liquid coat her fingers and brought her hand up, seeing the red, and her head spun slightly. Okay. Okay, so she was bleeding through the abdomen but that was okay. A lot of people bled through the abdomen. People did it all the time. No big deal. 

Nodding to herself, she turned her head slowly, trying to understand where she was. The room, whatever it was, was dark. In fact it was more like a hall than a room. The only light coming in slid in from under the door and a small window high up on a wall. Felicity looked around, trying to discern anything she could use to escape. And then she felt it. Rage. Not coming from her. From Oliver.

He was _furious._ The Green Room was completely unhinged and so, so enraged. She could imagine how he must have felt when he had discovered her gone right from under his nose, right at his house. Had he spoken to his mom? Confronted her? That would be really bad. But all she felt was relief, because she knew from experience that this bond was like a beacon to the other person. She had located him inside the house so many times just following her instinct, so many times just knowing which direction to go to seek him out. He would find her too. It was like their very own personal tracer. 

Feeling strengthened by that knowledge, she gripped a metal rod behind her and heaved herself up, clutching her stomach, feeling more disoriented than she had thought she would. 

"Hello?"

She called out in the large hall, hearing her own voice echo back. 

"Anyone here?"

Nope. She almost just turned when she heard a cough. Whirling slowly, she looked at a form huddled on a cot against the far side of the wall, and her heart started racing, eyes looking wildly around for any kind of weapon. What if this person was actually there to kill her before Oliver could reach her? And come to think of it, why hadn't they already killed her?

The man, whoever he was, coughed again before turning to her. "Who is there?"

The voice, the accent gave her pause. She shook her head in disbelief. "Walter?"

"Ms. Smoak?"

Relief flooded her and she took a few shaky steps forward, her abdomen cringing with every movement she made. Her eyes were adjusted to the darkness now but she couldn't see very clearly, both because of the pain and because her glasses were missing and while her eyesight would not have bothered her much during the day, it was a bitch right now. As was the pain. But it was fine. It would be fine. 

"Walter?" she was almost near his cot. "Are you alright?"

She saw the silhouette shuffle up and sit gingerly. "Yes. Nothing a few days of rest wouldn't cure. How did you find me?"

Felicity swallowed down hysteria that was slowly taking over. "I didn't. These guys found me. And brought me here. Though I don't know why they haven't killed me yet when they tried to before. Not that I am complaining. I like being alive. But why knife me and not kill me? It doesn't make any sense at..."

"You're hurt?" Walter's deep voice spoke with concern.   

Before she could answer, a shuffling noise came from outside the door, alerting her and she turned to look towards it. After a few minutes of silence, the entire hall was flooded with bright light, making her flinch and shut her eyes against the sudden brightness. After a second or so, she tentatively opened her eyes again and looked around the huge, empty space, her gaze fixating on the big metallic machine in the center of the room, and a gasp left her.

It was the Markov device. 

She had been right. Walter had been kept in the same building where Oliver had stumbled upon the device. The earthquake machine. The machine capable of shaking the very ground beneath her feet and making her fall in between the crack in earth like in her nightmares when she was younger. She shuddered, feeling lightheaded.

The huge metal doors opened and she breathed in deeply, biting her lip. She could feel in Green Room that Oliver knew she was awake, his relief mingling with his anger. She knew he would be able to find her soon. Gods of gratefulness, was she happy she had had sex with him now or what. And activated their very own tracer on each other. Unless hers was a faulty piece. She really hoped not. Not knowing how the bond worked even now, she kept thinking, repeating in her head where she was, hoping that something mystical would guide him here, would make him understand. 

"Hello, Ms. Smoak," a man's voice came, interrupting her musings and drawing her eyes to him. 

He walked in with grace, dark-haired and impeccably dressed in a black suit, late forties maybe, but too handsome to look like it, his voice polished. She looked at him and saw the uncanny resemblance, knowing who he was before he had even stopped in front of the device, almost thirty feet from her. 

"Mr. Merlyn," she responded icily, scared but trying not to be. This right here was the crazy man who had masterminded the entire plan. 

He grinned slightly, looking impressed. "I must say, when I planned this entire undertaking, I had never counted on a small IT girl becoming such a nuisance to me. I am very impressed by your tenacity, Ms. Smoak."

Felicity's eyebrows raised of its own accord. "Well, consider me not very thrilled upon being complimented by a sociopath, also a psychopath, potential mass murderer."

She couldn't believe herself. Nope. She needed to stay alive till Oliver got here. And to do that, she needed to definitely keep her mouth shut and not insult the man who could probably kill her in a second. 

Malcolm Merlyn stilled at her words, his mouth lifting up in a smirk. "You have grit, I'll give you that. But I need to do this, Ms. Smoak, and nobody will stand in my way."

She tried to keep in her words but her curiosity got better of her. Her curiosity was going to get her so incredibly killed. "Why are you doing this?"

He looked down at the ground, lost in his own thoughts, speaking softly. "The Glades killed my wife, Rebecca. The Glades had her beg for her life and die, knowing that the people she helped so much did not help her in return at all. Not even when she was dying. I will cleanse the Glades of this evil."

Felicity shook her head in disbelief at the man's audacity. "Seriously? For one death you'll inflict a thousand? On innocent people? Innocent men and women and children?"

Malcolm Merlyn looked up, right at her, his voice unequivocal. "Yes, I would."

He clicked his fingers and two men came in, wearing balaclavas, and went straight for Walter. Felicity's eyes widened as she tried to protest. "No. Where are you taking him?"

Nobody responded to her question and she tried to take a step forward but her head suddenly spun and she looked down at her stomach in pain. She had lost way more blood than she had realized. No. She needed to keep her wits. And Oliver needed to hurry if he wanted to have amazing, soulmatey sex with her again, ever. 

The men left with a drugged Walter, leaving Felicity alone with Malcolm Merlyn. Her stomach dropped to her knees. She swallowed, trying to delay whatever he had planned. 

"Um... are you going to kill me?" 

Malcolm Merlyn laughed, throwing his head back, his handsome face lighting up, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I can see why Moira was impressed by you. Your bluntness is refreshing."

"Glad I amuse you," she muttered under her breath, looking at the evil man. "Are you?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. No. For now, I need your help."

Felicity frowned. "And why would I help you, Mr. Evilness Personified?"

He gave a lopsided grin. "Because I will kill you if you don't."

Felicity scoffed slightly, feeling the blood draining from her. Just a little longer. "You are going to kill me anyways. So I'd rather die knowing I didn't help in mass murder, thank you very much!"

Malcolm grinned a little more, tapping his fingers again, and two men came in, bringing in her father an shoving him to his knees, leaving. 

Felicity's eyes widened and she looked at him as he looked up at her, eyes blank, face showing nothing. Malcolm Merlyn withdrew a gun, pointing it to her father's head, and leveled her with a look. 

"There is something wrong with this device," he began. "I've had experts look into it and something with it's programming or hardware is not working. I need you to fix whatever it is. And I know from experience and recommendation you are brilliant, Ms. Smoak."

Felicity gulped, looking at her father, the man who had abandoned her, the man who had become a stranger, the man who had made this device. She still couldn't let him die like this, could she? 

"Why can't he fix it?" she asked, pointing at her father.

"He tried," Malcolm said, shrugging. "So, you go on now, and fix whatever it is. And any funny business, I'm blowing his head off. Understand?"

Nodding, Felicity glanced one last time at her father, not knowing why she was still so bothered and disappointed by that man, and walked on leaden legs, her body slightly shaking, from what exactly she didn't know, towards the device of her nightmares. She stopped in front of it's control board, knowing why it wasn't working, but not understanding how to delay it. Oliver had shifted the wires two days ago on her directions and that had fried this machine. But how could she buy more time for herself and make sure the device wouldn't work anyways?

Removing her hand from her open wound, wiping the blood on her shirt, she opened the control panel, avoiding looking at her red fingers, instead looking at all the wires, and pretending to look for the problem, feeling eyes glued upon her back.

"You know," she started conversationally, using the energy she could feel rapidly draining from her body, "I am very good friends with your son. Tommy is an amazing guy."

"I am well aware, Ms. Smoak," Malcolm's bored voice came from behind her. "What's your point?"

She swallowed the bile in her throat and focused on the wires that were in place, pushing them just for the sake of pushing them, feeling for the Green Room. Oliver was feeling urgency. And she didn't know what that could imply. That could imply a lot of things. That could imply she would be dead in a while too. Oh boy.

"My point is," she said, not looking behind her, "would your son ever be proud of the father he has if you do this? Would your wife, who worked so hard to make the Glades a better place, condone this ghastly action?"

The silence from behind her was encouraging and she went on, picking up courage. "Think of how many Rebeccas you'll kill. Think of how many Tommys will die and be orphaned on the streets. Think of how many Malcolms you'll leave behind, helpless and enraged. This is not the solution, Mr. Merlyn. This recipe for a disaster is a fungus and it will spread faster than you would be able to stop it."

There was complete silence from behind her and she turned with slight trepidation, looking at the man. He stood still, considering her and she hoped that he had changed his mind. 

"Next time you speak, Ms. Smoak, about anything personal, your father is dying."

So, no remorse then. Okay. It was a long shot anyways. 

She turned back to the panel, knowing that the wire that was the problem rested just beneath it, and an idea came to her in a flash bulb moment. Working her fingers, she removed the red wires, gathering them together, and focused. And she had to get him talking, make sure he didn't have any surprises up his evil, expensive sleeve.

"So, nothing personal then," she muttered. "Just curious. How many of these will be needed to level the Glades? It's a huge area I mean. From a technical point of view."

"Just the one, Ms. Smoak," Malcolm replied from behind her, sounding proud. Proud his ass. 

She forced herself into sounding skeptical. "Seriously? Just this one? It can level the entire Glades? Who are you kidding?"

And just as she had thought, given his god-like complex, he replied, sounding affronted. "Of course it can. I planned this for years."

Seeing her opening, she delved in. "So you are telling me you trust this one so much you have no back-up? A man like you has no contingencies?"

There was a beat of silence before he said. "I have one more device."

Barely restraining herself from pumping her fist, she tried to sound bored. "Mm hmm. And that device works just fine? Like you've tested it? But how the hell would you test an earthquake machine? Anyways, are you sure it works?" 

An annoyed huff came out of his mouth. "No, I'm not sure it works, Ms. Smoak."

"Tell me about it," she said, joining the wires together, rearranging the control panel completely, being very careful not to sound like she was fishing for information, which she totally was. "I may be able to figure out if something is wrong. Like is it manually controlled like this one or have you upgraded it to remote access?"

"I was going to get it manual, but I thought having the remote on me would help," Malcolm supplied. 

"Very smart. So you have the remote?" she asked casually.

"Why do you ask?"

The suspicion in his voice made her flounder for a second before she got her swagger back. Her mom and Ms. N would be so very proud. 

"I'm just asking because if I see the remote i may be able to see if that device works." Which was total bullshit but there was a big chance that if Malcolm Merlyn had not yet realized she was rigging the device to explode, he would not know that she could do nothing with that remote unless she had a wireless signal. Which she did not. Oh, the bluff. The Las Vegan in her mom would be so, so proud. 

"You can do that?" 

This time it was her father asking in surprise and not Malcolm. She grit her teeth, reining in the anger against her father and shrugged nonchalantly, pulling on her stomach. Frack.

"Duh, anyone with a technical brain can do that," she replied. 

There was suddenly a small black remote beside her and she looked up to see Malcolm Merlyn staring intently down at her. "Don't try to be smart, Ms. Smoak."

He turned and left, going back to his earlier position. 

"Too bad I already am," she muttered under her breath, focusing on the rigging of the wires together so that pushing the start button would make it explode. Where the hell was Oliver? 

She could feel the adrenaline he was feeling, she could feel the chase he was almost tasting. He was on his way but was he on his way to the right place? And she was slowly losing more blood. This was not good. In fact, this was very, very bad. 

For five minutes she worked, trying to communicate silently to Oliver, praying that the bond suddenly became telepathic, and finally finished the pseudo bomb, shutting the panel.

"It's done?"

She turned to face the two men, gritting her teeth against the pain in her abdomen which was increasing at a frightening rate. "Yeah, it's so done."

Malcolm nodded, putting away his gun. "And the remote?"

A wave of pain suddenly made her drop to her knees, her lungs burning. She folded a hand on her wound, a hiss escaping her as tears slipped down her cheeks. She looked up at her father, beckoning him to help her but he just stood silently, blankly. And then she understood. Malcolm had never been intending to shoot him. They had planned this all along to coerce her. He had been in on it. 

"You bastard!" she spit out in disgust, feeling hatred from him fill her very bones. "You rat!"

"You mind that big heart, Ms. Smoak," Malcolm Merlyn said, grinning like the evil guy he was.

Her father, meanwhile, remained unmoved, watching her bleed and she felt the little hope in her wither. That man could watch her bleed to death without blinking an eye. Good thing she had made a bomb for Father's day. Her toes started slowly going cold, sending a wave of panic through her. She didn't have much time now. 

With a frantic effort, she focused on the Green Room, on the urgency she could feel in Oliver and she knew, all of a sudden, with the deep swoop she got in her gut every time he was nearby, that he was here. 

Smiling, she felt herself go lank, sitting on her knees and waited for him to come in while the two men talked softly before her. And then she heard it. So did they. Their heads swiveled in sync to the left. A loud crash came from outside the room before the door flew open, kicked in by Oliver in his green avatar and she exhaled in relief. 

She saw Digg come in behind him, wearing a balaclava, and she knew it was Digg because of those tree trunky arms. Police sirens sounded far and out away but her eyes remained on Oliver as he came in, an arrow nocked on his bow. His body, the body that had been so gentle, so loving with her, was tensed and coiled to spring, like when he had fought off those men on the highway a few days ago. 

_"Malcolm Merlyn,"_ his modulated voice boomed out loud and clear, _"you have failed this city!"_

Seriously? That was his line? She would have shaken her head had she had the strength, but she just sat there, watching. 

Digg came up behind her father, knocking him on the head as he collapsed on the ground in a heap, unconscious, and she could not bring herself to care. Nope. No caring for that piece of rotten cake who had donated a chromosome in her manufacturing process. 

Malcolm looked at Oliver and suddenly pounced, faster than she would have believed possible, and she saw with her own two eyes a fight that TV shows would kill for. The action before her was so quick and so effective it was making her dizzy but she was unable to look away. Malcolm and Oliver spun and rotated and kicked and dropped to the ground around each other, both fighting with precision and technique, both fighting with vengeance and rage. It was a force to behold, seeing them collide and best each other over and over again. 

She felt arms pick her up and turned to see Digg, clearly wanting to carry her out and she panicked. 

"No, Digg," she whispered, unable to summon energy for more. "You need to get Oliver out of here. Walter too. Let Malcolm detonate the device."

"The police have Walter, Felicity. These guys were trying to transport him and they got caught." Digg started but she shook her head weakly. 

"Good but I made the device a bomb. Tell Oliver. Go."

She saw the hesitancy in Digg and gave him a weak push, finally spurring him into action. He ran headfirst into the fight, making it two against one and she had to admit, the bastard Merlyn could fight well. While the fight went on, punches and uppercuts and kicks brutally exchanged that she knew would bruise, she gripped a metal railing beside her tightly, and pulled herself up, picking up the remote and pushing it in her pocket, edging towards the door, knowing Digg would get Oliver out. Oliver had to be out. There was no other option.

She took a step and faltered, her breathing getting harder, the oxygen becoming enemies with her lungs and she exhaled, trying again. She couldn't feel her legs now and moving them became harder than cracking her own codes. Her body shook like a leaf in the wind and she stood in the same spot, getting frustrated at her inability to move. She turned her neck weakly, looking at the men, and was glad to see Malcolm down on the ground with Oliver holding an arrow over his chest. She saw Digg whisper something in his ear and saw him tense, take a step back, before leaving Merlyn like that on the ground and whirling on his heel. While Digg headed straight for the door, keeping his gun trained on Merlyn, Oliver came straight towards her.

He reached her just as her legs gave away beneath her, catching her before she crumpled to a heap on the ground, his eyes widening upon seeing so much blood around her, coming from her. She felt his panic in her Green Room but it was slowly becoming muted as he picked her up more solidly and ran towards the door, Diggle watching his back. Her head lolled as she looked into the corridor, watching the unconscious bodies of people who had worked for Merlyn, exiting out the back. 

"Hey," she felt Oliver shake her slightly, whispering as Diggle got the van. "Felicity."

Her eyelids were feeling heavy now but she blinked up at him, smiling a little, her voice barely above a whisper. "You found me."

He pressed his lips to her head. "I promised you I always will."

"My pocket. Remote. Destroy it," she mouthed to him. 

Her eyes closed but she felt herself shifting as he sat in the van, the jarring causing her no pain. She felt cold everywhere. Numb. 

"Felicity!"

He shook her more solidly and she blinked open her eyes once, feeling the lethargy seep everywhere, feeling his Green Room closing, becoming farther and farther away.

"Stay with me!" 

She nodded. Or thought she did. Tried to. But he shook her again. He really needed to stop that. She just wanted to sleep. 

"Felicity! Just a little longer! Stay with me, baby! Hold on!"

He kept shouting, his voice muted in her ears, and annoying. 

"Hold on for me, Felicity. Listen to my voice. Hold on!"

For him. She would do anything for him. Even when he was not letting her rest. She could hold on. She did like his voice after all.

"I love you. Stay with me, Felicity. Just a little longer! We are almost there."

Where? She loved him too. She wanted to tell him but her lips were disconnected with her brain for some reason. And she was cold. So cold.

"Felicity! Felicity! Can you hear me? Felicity! Digg, faster! God damn it!"

She could hear him. Why was he making such a fuss? And he really shouldn't talk to Digg that way. And why couldn't she move? At all? And why wasn't she even panicking?

"Oh god, please! No, no, no, no, no! Not now! Please. Felicity! Baby! Open your eyes! Felicity!"

She couldn't move her eyes. No. This was wrong. He shouldn't be crying. But he was. And his voice was getting further and further away. 

"Felicity? Yes! I need a doctor right...."

She felt something move. Something was moving her. And she felt his voice go away, drowned away completely. And she let go, unable to anchor herself any longer without his voice. 

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	21. The Queen Suite Equivalent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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Something was persistently nagging at her to wake up. Something that was not her own will because, well, she wanted to sleep. But this something was just not quitting it with the nagging and with a small sigh, the internal kind, she let herself wake slowly, keeping her eyes closed. 

As her body awakened, she let herself feel. And did she feel. She felt the needles (god, she hated needles) piercing her skin at multiple places, the weird wire thing in her nostril which was just ew, and numbness. Especially in her abdomen. It was surprisingly cold and numb and she remembered very distinctly it not being so. It had been gaping and bleeding a river. 

Confused, she opened her eyes slightly, blinking them a few times, just looking around the room. The room in a hospital evidently. The same room she had been in the last time. The Queen Suite equivalent, or whatever. She really needed to stop frequenting this one, comfortable as it was. She looked down, feeling that nagging sensation again, to find Oliver draped over her hand, sleeping with his head on her thigh. And he was nagging at her to wake up in his sleep. 

The knowledge that even in his sleep he wanted her awake made her heart clench, and she looked at him with gritty eyes, just seeing him. He looked tired, so very tired and her heart ached seeing him so resigned for whatever reason. His scruff was almost a beard now, his forehead marred with lines, and his eyes clenched even in his sleep. 

She looked around the room and back at him, her logical brain trying to piece things together. So, she was in the hospital. For how long had she been there? And how long had he been there? And what had happened to the device? And Malcolm Merlyn? And her rat of a father? And Moira Queen? Was Walter fine?

Questions assaulted her brain, and she looked out the window at the end of the room, seeing the dark night and the skyline of the city. She felt slightly disoriented. 

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and Felicity saw in surprise as Oliver, who had been sleeping one second ago, jumped up to his feet, twisting around to face the door, his body a protective shield in front of her. Her heart rate increased at the way his senses reacted to any potential threat, to them, to her. She looked past him to see Tommy entering the room quietly, shutting the door behind him. Felicity felt Oliver's Green Room relax and she knew he knew that she was awake. Oliver's body relaxed slightly as well and he sat back down while Tommy came on the other side of the bed, depositing a big bouquet of lilies beside her.

"Hey Tommy," she croaked out, her voice coming out low and scratchy.

She felt Oliver take a hold of her hand, gripping it while rubbing it with his thumb, and though the grip was a little tight, she didn't say anything because she felt how much he needed that reassurance. Squeezing his hand back, she saw Tommy sit down, his patent grin nowhere on his handsome face and she frowned.

"You need to stop with the hospitals, you know," Tommy said, his voice not at all playful and she smiled.

"What can I say? This is a really good room."

His mouth lifted up in a small smile and she felt the Green Room become more relieved than amused and she looked at between the two men, sensing a tension that hadn't been there before. Okay. This was weird. 

"What's going on, guys?" she asked, wanting to know whatever it was that had them being odd.

Tommy's lips pursed and he shrugged. "Well, while you were sleeping, I found out that my dad was a psychotic bastard with plans to destroy the city, and is responsible for the attack on you..."

"Wait, was?" she interrupted, her eyes widening.

Oliver spoke for the first time, his voice low and husky, like he hadn't used it for some time, but so very soothing. "The bomb went off the moment we were out of there. No bodies were recovered."

She swallowed, her eyes tearing up for Tommy, guilt wracking her for building that bomb. "I'm so sorry, Tommy. I never meant to.. I just..." she stopped, not knowing what to say.

Tommy shook his head at her, his eyes kind like they always were. "Don't apologize. You saved the city, Felicity. You saved all of us from the monster that was my father. You are a hero."

She bit her lip, not knowing what to say and felt the pride that filled the Green Room. Oliver was proud of her and that certainly made things better.

Tommy gave her a small lop-sided grin. "I also found out that my castaway best friend is actually the man under the hood shooting people with arrows."

Felicity's jaw dropped and she looked between the two of them, settling her gaze back on Tommy. "And you are okay with it?"

Tommy shook his head, glancing at Oliver. "I wasn't, not at first. But now with Merlyn Global in chaos, and all the other stuff, I need my best friend. So, we just talked about it like adults for the first time in our lives, and well, there are issues I think I'll always have, but you help."

Taken aback, Felicity frowned. "Me?"

Tommy grinned. "Yes, you. Since he met you, he has changed. Become more human. His alter ego too. And I know that guy is someone I can be friends with."

Felicity suddenly felt a twinge of pain in her abdomen and Oliver got up, pushing the button for the medication, his blue, tired eyes on her.

Tommy got up as well, planting a kiss on her head, and she ignored the way her skin reacted to it, smiling at him.

"Get better, Felicity," he said, looking at her with his concerned eyes. "You have become important to us. I'll visit later."

She nodded. "Thanks for the flowers."

He threw a grin her way and nodded solemnly at Oliver before getting out of the room, locking the door on his way out.

Felicity bit her lip and leaned back against the pillow, watching Oliver settle into the chair.

"Why don't you go home, Oliver? Get some sleep? You look tired," she said softly, and watched as his eyes settled on her.

He didn't say anything and she could feel from the way he was looking and feeling that he had no intention of budging. Sighing at his stubbornness, she shook her head, feeling the medication kick in slowly. 

"How long was I out?"

She saw his face tense but he answered. "This is the fourth night."

Oh boy, it must have been hell. "How are you?"

His lips pursed and he shook his head, kissing her hand lightly. "Sleep, Felicity. We can talk later. Just get better."

"Oliver..."

"Sleep."

Fighting a losing battle was not worth it right now. With a soft sigh, tangling their fingers together, she succumbed to sleep.

 

                                                           ------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The next time she opened her eyes, deja-vu hit her. She was in the hospital room, it was still night outside, only this time, Oliver was nowhere to be seen. She frowned slightly, and looked around the room, just to see Thea get in, carrying a small Tupperware bag. The Queens used something as ordinary as Tupperware. Someone alert the media.

Shaking her head, she smiled as Thea came forward with a grin, sitting down where Oliver had been sitting earlier. Whenever that earlier had been.

"So, the Sleeping Beauty awakens," Thea spoke loudly, setting the boxes on the side table and pulling the small food table attached to the bed out and over her.

"Yeah, well, let's not insult the beautiful mythical princess with this old computer hag," Felicity replied, teasingly before asking. "Where's Oliver?"

"Home," Thea replied, setting the small box open and the smell of chicken wafted to her nostrils, her mouth salivating. "He had not budged since four days and I literally had to pull the big guns out to get him to go home and just shower, at least."

Felicity nodded, her eyes glued to the liquid in front of her. Thea supplied. "This is Raisa's special healing chicken soup. There is not a soul on earth who would not be healed if they had it. I cleared it with the doctor earlier. You can have it."

Her stomach grumbled and she took the spoon, lifting it to her mouth and sipping it. A moan left her and she closed her eyes, relishing the taste.

"This is the best soup I have ever had," she said before digging in with gusto.

"So," Thea began, leaning back in her chair, "I'm really glad you are alright. For everyone, but especially for Ollie."

Felicity frowned, looking up at her pretty green eyes and asked. "What do you mean?"

Thea looked out the window, lost in her memories and spoke in a quiet voice way too matured for her age. "Mom and I heard about the kidnapping and Ollie ran out with Mr. Diggle. We had no idea what was going on and then Mr. Diggle called mom to get the people at the hospital be ready. We got here before you did. And Ollie cam in, carrying you. There was so much blood everywhere. He was soaked and he didn't even seem to care about anything."

Thea's eyes moved back to her, engrossed, and Felicity listened, her soup forgotten. "We sat outside while you were in surgery. And he just sat so still. He wouldn't let anyone talk to him, not mom or Mr. Diggle or me or even Tommy. He just sat and waited for the doctors to come out. And then everything went into panic."

Felicity gripped the spoon, listening to Thea, knowing this had been far worse than she had thought. "What happened, Thea?"

"You flatlined."

 Felicity sucked in a shaky breath, dropping the spoon in the bowl. This was _way_ worse than she had thought. 

 "I'll never forget that look on Ollie's face," Thea said, staring into space. "The doctors were all rushing around, trying to get you to... and he just stood there, so still, and... his eyes were dead, Felicity. It's like he wasn't even alive anymore. Like something inside him had died."

Thea didn't know but something inside him had. She had. 

She saw Thea shake her head and smile, shaking off the solemn mood. "Then you were revived and once you got shifted to this room, he just shifted here with you. The way he had lost it, Felicity, none of us even had the heart to tell him to take a break. He would just sit here and stare at you day in and day out, no matter who came to visit. My brother loves you in a way I never even thought he could love a girl. So, don't die on him again, okay?"

Felicity chuckled, picking up the spoon again. "Yeah, I'll try."

She had her soup for a while when Thea's phone buzzed and she looked down, getting up. "Alright, I have to go. Ollie is on his way up. Mr. Diggle is outside. I'll come again, okay?"

Felicity smiled, returning the small hug Thea gave her. "Thanks for coming. And please thank Raisa for the soup."

Giving her a quick salute, Thea left and Felicity settled back in her pillows, feeling the bandage under her hospital gown. She hadn't thought she had come so close to losing him. Swallowing, she saw the door open and Oliver standing there, his scruff back to it's normal length, his hair messed up like he had run his fingers through them, wearing a black t-shirt and carrying his helmet. He threw it aside on the sofa and strode in, Green Room so on edge and so tensed it was a feat he was even moving.

She opened her arms for him, knowing how much he needed this, and to be honest, how much she needed this. He sat down on the bed beside her, gathering her in his arms, being careful of her injury, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him bury his head into hers. He exhaled deeply, like he had been holding his breath for so long, and she felt the Green Room relax a little.

He kissed the side of her neck, inhaling her hair which she was sure smelled like hospital by now, and kept pressing small kisses into it, his own clean scent wrapping around her.

"Don't ever, ever, do that to me again," he murmured right against her ear, his body shuddering in her arms and she could feel how much he needed the release.

She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling his closer into her neck. "I'm here."

"But you weren't!" he said, his hand running over her back, feeling her skin through the gap in the gown. He pressed his face into her hair, inhaling again. 

"I have been through five years of hell, Felicity," he spoke quietly, his Green Room completely solemn. "And I'm ready to go through another five years like that if it means I don't have to live those seconds when you..." 

He pulled back, gripping her face in his huge hands, and the tears on his face pulled at her like nothing else. "I can't do this without you, Felicity. I can't live with that silence I felt inside me. Knowing you are there, feeling it every second of everyday... I need it. I need you."

Her mouth trembled as she wiped away his tears, but more kept falling. He was coming apart at the seams. 

"I have lost so much, Felicity. So many people leave," his voice shook and his jaw trembled. "Please don't leave me. I won't be able to..."

She couldn't hear him like this. She pulled him back into her arms, ignoring the twinge of discomfort in her abdomen, and kissed his neck, repeatedly. "I'm not leaving you, Oliver. You won't ever lose me."

His whole body shook as he heaved a sob and her heart shriveled, listening to the sound, feeling his acute agony inside them.

"Shh. I came back, Oliver," she whispered, pressing kisses into his skin. "I came back to you. I'll always come back to you."

"Don't leave me like that, Felicity."

Seeing him so undone, so unhinged made her own eyes close, tears seeping out of them. "I'm right here, baby. I'm not going anywhere."

He sobbed against her neck for minutes, eventually calming down, the turmoil in his Green Room easing. He pulled back a bit, pressing his lips to hers, just keeping them there. She could feel the wetness of his tears on his lips and she moved her head, kissing him a bit more firmly. They feathered kisses on each others mouths for moments, before he brushed their noses together, pressing his head to hers.

"I love you," he said, his breath ghosting over her face. 

She smiled slightly, still not used to hearing it. "I love you."

He inhaled deeply and sat back, keeping their hands together, his blue eyes clearing of the storm she had seen in them earlier. 

Squeezing his hand, she asked. "So what exactly happened? After I passed out?"

He put their hands on his thigh, tracing her fingers with his, looking deep into her eyes. "You passed out and we were almost at the turn when the building exploded. That was actually really clever, that too under duress as you had been."

Felicity flushed a little and Oliver raised a hand to her cheek, brushing it with his thumb. "I like it when you blush."

Before she could stop it, her words were out. "Here or everywhere?"

Her cheeks turned hotter and she felt his amusement, his lips quirking up on the corners, his eyes heating a little. "Everywhere."

Her pulse spiked, their gazes locked and she heard the heart monitor start to beep, mortifying her. Seriously? Her body had to parade what she felt? Actually it already did that. 

She inhaled deeply, her abdomen hurting a bit, and got it under control, clearing her throat. "What about the other device?"

Oliver tilted his head, a small grin tugging at his lips at her tactics,  but spoke. "Digg destroyed the remote when I changed the clothes in the van. And he later destroyed the device at Merlyn's house."

She nodded, relieved. "We just avoided a catastrophe."

"You did," Oliver spoke quietly. "If it hadn't been for you, from the very beginning, nobody would have even suspected anything. I would have been clueless. And we would all have been dead. You saved everyone, Felicity."

She looked down at their hands, shrugging a little. "I couldn't have done it without you. We work well as a team."

"We do."

She looked up at him, the way he was considering her unnerving. "What?"

He stayed quiet for a long minute before speaking. "My father's list is almost moot now. But this city still needs saving. And I need you. Tommy was right, I am better with you."

She looked at him, feeling how serious he was about this, and nodded before he could even ask any question. Just nodded. 

He smiled his soft smile for her, the one he mostly had with her, and kissed her hand.

"What happened to my father?"

Her question was met with his smile vanishing off his face, anger replacing it. "He is in jail. There was enough evidence to shut down the company and send him to prison. It's a good thing because I had a few arrows with his name on it."

His anger on her behalf touched her but she shook her head. "Let it go, Oliver. He's getting what he deserved. Wait, does my mom know?"

His smile came back again. "I called her two days ago, told her it was a small kidnapping. She was ready to drop everything and come but I told her to take her time. That you were alright. She's flying in today."

Her eyes widened. "That means I'll have to introduce you to my mom? Oh boy, I am so dying of embarrassment. But well, considering your mom, mine is the harmless kind. Actually I take that back. She can be very harmful but to her own daughter's reputation. And she will meet you. Earth will need to swallow me momentarily. Not forever, because I still have a lot on my list we need to explore. Obviously not while my mom is there. Although that is a kink a lot of people have and I am not judging them. And my mom will maybe mention how sexy you are. Like mother, like daughter I guess. But it will be in a totally non-creepy way. She's amazing. Just a little low on the filter around hot men of all ages. Like mother, like daughter, again. And this conversation has become a monologue. Why are you grinning?"

Oliver's grin turned into a chuckle and he leaned forward, pecking her on the mouth. "I missed this."

Felicity shook her head. "How can anybody miss this? I would pay me to shut up. I guess it's my way of catching up on five days. That reminds me, what is up with your mom?"

Oliver sobered slightly, shrugging. "She gave most of the evidence connecting your dad to the Undertaking. And Malcolm Merlyn was made an accomplice to keep the vultures off Tommy. I understand why she did what she did, but it was wrong. And it will take me some time to move on from that, I guess."

She rubbed his hand, nodding. "I'm just glad you are not completely shoving her out of your life?"

"Even after what she did to you?"

Felicity shrugged. "She's your mom, the only parent you have. Like it or not, she did what she did to protect you both. I can't hate her for that."

Oliver's blue eyes pierced her, the intensity in them unnerving. He leaned forward and captured her lips in a hard kiss, surprising her and pulled back.

"You are a remarkable woman and I am  one lucky bastard," he ground out, shaking his head in wonder.

"I am lucky too," she said softly. "Because you are just as remarkable."

Before he could respond, the door to the room opened and Digg peeked in, smiling at her. "Is it safe for me to come in?"

She grinned at him. "Not really. I'm lucid, which means I can talk which probably means you will be scandalized in the next ten seconds."

Oliver chuckled as Digg huffed a laugh. "Probably. But I'd rather be scandalized than have you quiet. Doesn't suit you."

Felicity would have hugged him if she could have. That big teddy bear. She tilted her head to Oliver. "He give you trouble?"

Digg widened his eyes comically. "Oh, you have no idea."

Oliver raised an eyebrow, his face stoic, and Felicity giggled, her stitches suddenly pulling from the movement.

"Ow," she muttered, raising a hand to her stomach, feeling the bandage. Oliver pushed the button for the medication again and sat on the chair.

"The police will want to talk to you, Felicity," Digg said in his gentle voice. "You up for it?"

Before she could respond, Oliver looked at Digg and some silent macho communication thing happened and Diggle nodded. "I'm going home for the night. You got her?"

Oliver looked back at Felicity, pinning her with his eyes. "I've got her."

Oh boy, did he get her. So much. Every way.

"Take care, Felicity," Digg said from the doorway. Felicity responded in kind, her eyes trained on Oliver, feeling the pain medication kick in as she lay down, her heart beat slowing but she felt hot.

"Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

"When can we have sex again?"

He choked on a laugh, pressing his head to her hand, his shoulders shaking. "Felicity?"

She huffed in slight frustration, feeling his amusement. "I'm serious, Oliver. Everything else aside, sex with you is like a drug. And I'm going into withdrawal. So when?"

Oliver smiled softly at her, in a way that just made her want to cuddle him. "After you are healed. And the doctors say it's fine."

She raised her eyebrows, feeling a little drowsy. "And you'll restrain yourself. By what? Taking care of yourself in the shower?"

Her reference to their first time together, mutual masturbating, didn't pass him. His dimple came out and he shook his head. "I'll wait. You need to get better."

She sighed, closing her eyes, feeling herself drift. "I do. We still need to have shower sex again. And bath tub. And obviously the bed. We have never really done it on the bed. And sex with me on top. And against a wall. And car. So much sex left..."

She drifted off to sleep, feeling his chuckle against her skin.

 

                                                                --------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Felicity twisted the sheet under her fists, feeling more nervous than she had thought she would. Digg had just texted her with the news that he had picked up her mom and her friend at the airport and was bringing them to the hospital. And she was getting nervous because her mom would meet Oliver. Handsome Oliver. Oh, this was a recipe for disaster. Her face was going to explode with heat. And Oliver and his dang Green Room would be so amused.

Speaking of, Oliver had gone down to the doctor's office, to collect her prescriptions and get the papers for checking her out today. Which was amazing, because she was tired of this hospital room, nice as it was. But she was alone and being alone meant her mind was on her mother meeting her soulmate and that was doom for her. And she knew she was being dramatic but she didn't care.

She looked towards the door as it opened, and saw her mother rush inside and attack her with a tight hug, making her flinch with the pressure on her abdomen.

"Ow, Mom," she said and her mom immediately pulled back, looking at her frantically, the same way she used to check her over whenever she got injured as a kid, and Felicity's heart softened. God, she'd missed her.

"How are you, honey?" her mother asked, sitting down beside her, her short red dress clinging to her body, looking as young as the last time Felicity had seen her. 

"I'm good, Mom," Felicity reassured her and that's when her eyes landed on the woman who slowly came in the door, sitting on the chair. 

Ms. N. She had come all the way to Starling to see her. And Felicity was so touched. 

"You look beautiful, _chica_ ," Ms. N said, calling her by the old nickname.

Felicity huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "In a hospital gown? I think you are going blind in your old age, Ms. N."

Ms. N smiled at her teasing, and Felicity's mom grinned, her enthusiasm bubbling forth. "Felicity, why did Oliver Queen call me with news about you? And why is he funding your hospital charges? And he sent his car to pick us up? Are you friends with the Oliver Queen?"

Felicity swallowed, her eyes going to Ms. N, who just looked back at her with knowing eyes, the kind of gaze she had always bestowed upon Felicity when she had ridiculed the concept of jujus and destined lovers as a child. Ms. N knew. Oh boy.

The door opened just then, and Oliver came in, looking good enough to eat in his brown leather jacket and jeans, and was she hungry. His fantastic body was highlighted in the way he carried himself, and Felicity saw her mother's jaw drop and Ms. N look him up and down before winking at Felicity. Her face heated. 

Oliver strode in with a smile on his face, his gaze flitting from woman to woman, his Green Room entirely too happy with the prospect of meeting her mother. 

"Hello," he said, in that deep voice of his that resonated inside her and she saw as her mom stood up, gaping at him in a really embarrassing way. 

Felicity cleared her throat loudly and began the painful introductions, pointing to her mom. "Oliver, this is my mother."

Oliver shook hands with her, grinning. "It's so great to meet you, Mrs. Smoak."

Her mother blinked up at him, completely mesmerized. Yeah, she knew the feeling. 

"Please call me Donna."

"Please call me Oliver."

Felicity cleared her throat again, and pointed to Ms. N. "Oliver, this is Ms. N."

Oliver smiled, shaking her hand and Felicity saw the careful scrutiny Ms. N gave him, like she was measuring him. 

"I have heard quite a lot about you, Ms. N," Oliver said, noticing her unusual scrutiny. 

Ms. N smiled that mysterious smile of hers. "And I have known about you for a very long time, Mr. Queen."

Oliver frowned, his gaze drifting to Felicity, his Green Room confused. Felicity just shook her head. She'd explain later. 

Ms. N saw the exchange and smiled wide. Felicity's mother interrupted. "How do you know my daughter, Oliver? Not that I mind."

Oliver turned to her, raising his eyebrows in amusement and Felicity gulped. "Mom, meet Oliver Queen..."

"I know who he..."

"...my boyfriend," Felicity finished, over her mother. 

Her mom looked at the two of them, stunned, from one to another like a tennis match was going on, before she whispered. "Oliver Queen is your boyfriend?"

Felicity flushed, glaring at her mother. "Yes he is."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"It's a fairly recent development," she muttered. 

Donna Smoak looked gobsmacked. Felicity could understand. There was tensed silence for a beat before Ms. N cleared her throat. 

"Are you happy, _chica?_ "

Felicity glanced at Oliver, to find him watching her, and she smiled. "Yes, I am."

They chat for a few minutes after that before Ms. N and her mom left for their hotel, escorted by Digg who gave her a look behind her mom's back, leaving Oliver and her alone in the room. 

Oliver shut the door behind them, locking it, and turned to her, helping her out of the bed, and taking out a dress he told Thea had picked out for her. He looked at her, his eyes boring into hers. 

"Turn around," he said softly and her heart hammered in her chest. 

"Oliver, I can change," she replied almost on a whisper. 

"But, you're not going to."

Felicity swallowed and turned around, feeling his breath on the nape of her neck as he slowly pulled on the strings behind her hospital gown, undoing it one by one. Her heart thudded in her chest as she felt the gown drop to the floor and felt him turn her back, completely naked, to face him. 

She felt how aroused he was becoming, by how much in control of himself he was. His eyes zeroed in on the white bandage on her abdomen, fingers brushing against it tenderly, like he could heal it with his touch. 

"Oliver..."

The need in her voice seemed to shake him out of whatever trance he was in, and he looked back at her, raising her arms and slipping the simple cotton dress on her. 

Felicity swallowed, her chest heaving. She really wanted to kiss him. Almost understanding her need, well obviously since he could, he slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her with a ferocity that made her toes curl as she gripped on his biceps for balance, kissing him back with vigor.

He pulled back before it could escalate, like it always did with them, gritting out, "God, I need you to heal fast."

The frustration in his voice, that she felt so deeply, made her giggle. "What about underwear?"

Green Room heated, as did his eyes. "You won't need any. We are going to the mansion and you are going to bed again."

Felicity sighed, shaking her head. "Oliver, I can't live at the mansion with you all the time. I have an apartment and I need to go there too."

Suddenly, she felt the Green Room tense and she narrowed her eyes, watching the slightly sheepish expression that crossed his face. 

"What?" she demanded.

Oliver looked into her eyes, drilling her with his gaze. "Your apartment has already been broken into once, and I am not comfortable with you living there alone. And you are right. You can't live at the mansion all the time. The thing is, now, neither can I. With my mother and my night job, and now with you, I've decided to move out of the mansion and buy an apartment in the city."

Felicity's heart started pounding, her brain telling her exactly where this was going. "And?"

Oliver looked at her with that intensity of his, his hands rubbing her arms, and his face so earnest her gut churned. And he opened his mouth. 

"And I'd like you to move in with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	22. His Gift and Other Adjectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. This beautiful journey that I had started, unsure, uncertain, as a complete stranger to this fandom has reached it's beautiful destination. On the way, I made mistakes, learned, and made so many friends. You all have accepted me and welcomed me with such open arms and I cannot even begin to tell you how overwhelmed I am today to finish this. 
> 
> My first fanfic ever. The fanfic that introduced me to so many of you. It finally comes to a close. 
> 
> And you, you amazing readers, you have critiqued and appreciated and fed my muse like nothing I have ever seen, making me so much better, making me grow. This would not have been remotely possible without any of you. 
> 
> So, THANK YOU! ALL OF YOU! 
> 
> Here is the last chapter. 
> 
> Happy reading!!!

"Donna Smoak and Moira Queen? In the same room? At the same dinner table? Hell, in the same universe?"

Stana's climbing volume made Felicity hit her head with her fist, repeatedly, remembering the weirdest dinner she had ever been a part of.

It was a month since that day in the hospital, since her flat-lining, since Oliver asking her to live with him.

After blinking at him for longer than he had been comfortable with, just enough to make him doubt himself, she had said yes. Obviously she had. Because her super horn-dog brain had told her, after waking from its shock induced coma, that living with him meant a lot of flat surfaces and a lot of uninterrupted, unrestricted friction against those flat surfaces. She had said yes, and Oliver had grinned wickedly (and oh boy, her tummy had churned), knowing exactly what had been going on in her head. He had his own Room where she was concerned after all.

Once she had been discharged, Oliver had taken her around to see the many houses and apartments and penthouses that him being Oliver Queen had gotten him access to immediately. Oliver Queen was, after all, every real estate agent's dream. And every other kind of agent's. And every one possessing a double X chromosome.

Their agent had been a tall, beautiful blonde who had run her fingers through her hair more times than had been necessary while showing them the places. And while they had been beautiful, most of them, she just had not felt that she would want to live with Oliver (who had blatantly ignored the hair and the agent) in any of those places. Well, she would have lived with him in a cave, but this had been something else. Living with him everyday for a long time before things moved to the next step. She had wanted something only for them. A place where they would come back after a hard day (or night) at work, explore each other and still make it a home. Something different.

Oliver, being the saint of patience that he was (note the sarcasm), had started sighing loudly, repeatedly, after every count of fifty. She had counted. Subconsciously. Kind of. They had been house hunting for two days and the agent had been sighing just as frequently, she suspected, inwardly of course, at Oliver Queen's super picky girlfriend. (And that word still made her tummy flutter, even after a month). Two days and a dozen rejected houses later, Oliver had come to her hotel suite at 3 in the morning.

Yes. She had been in The Essex, in the penthouse suite, with her mom and Ms. N while they stayed in town and her apartment was put on the market. Oliver had wanted them all at the mansion but she had refused. They had argued and she had won, smugly if she may add, with staying in the suite. And paying for it on her own. And that was when Oliver had realized that his girlfriend was better off than he had thought. She had explained to him that night how she had dabbled and invested in cyber companies. She had a healthy little nest egg of her own. Oliver had stared at her in awe before shaking himself off and sighing grumpily. He did that a lot when he lost arguments.

 

Anyhow, he had come in through the window (and she did not know why the man had this need for crazy stunts when she was not on the receiving end of his arrow and there had been a perfectly unlocked door standing right there, waiting to be opened) and she had known from the falling feeling in her tummy who had been ruining her very decent night of sleep. She had woken up with her bed head, put on her glasses and glared at him as much as she could glare with a bed head and penguins on her pajamas. And then she had noticed he had been wearing his green leathers. And her tummy had fluttered. 

He had come forward, in all his hooded glory, and whispered. "I found the perfect place."

Felicity had stared at him in disbelief, blinking. "Did you seriously go around town in the dark of the night, in your vigilante glory,  _house-hunting?"_

And then, at the complete ridiculousness of the situation, she had burst out laughing, giggling uncontrollably, the imagery in her head not helping at all. Oliver had just stood there, tilting his head at her, letting her laugh it out but she had felt his own amusement in the Green Room.

"And then you sneaked in through the window of the penthouse," she had added, in between her laughs, "of the best hotel in town, and I don't even want to know how you did that, when there is a perfect door right there? You broke into your girlfriend's room after finding a house in the middle of the night? What did you do? Threaten the agent with  _"You have failed in finding me a house"_?" she had imitated his modulated voice, bursting out hysterically, imagining it, till tears had been streaming down her cheeks and her stomach had been in stitches.       

Oliver had apparently had enough of her making fun, because in the next second, he had thrown her up over his shoulder, making her breath rush out in a whoosh, and left the suite (thankfully through the door). She had had no idea how he had gotten them down to his bike without being seen carrying a giggling woman, but he had and then he had placed her on the seat and throttled it, pulling out and away from the hotel. And she had tightened her arms around him, burying her face in his back, still in her penguin pajamas, still laughing at how ridiculous they might have looked to any other person- him in his green leather and she in her nightwear, on the bike, tearing through the streets. Green Room had been that mix of amused and exasperated at her, and excited about whatever he had to show her. 

He had driven them past Verdant, to the outskirts of Starling, the buildings getting far and few in between, the woods thickening and then he had stopped, right in the middle of the road with woods skirting them and gotten her down. She had tried asking him what they had been doing there but he had shushed her, taken a hold of her hand (and the thrill that always shot through her tummy at the touch never ceased to amaze her) and pulled her through the trees, to the edge where the concrete started. And she had seen three warehouses, abandoned, and the rest of the city. They had been at the edge of the Glades, right where the woods started and the city ended, closer to Verdant than she had thought. 

Confused, she had followed Oliver as he had lead her to the warehouse on the left. It had been grey on the outside and absolutely huge. Oliver had opened the huge metal doors and had gestured for her to enter. Furrowing her brow at him, she had. And then she had stopped, just inside the entry way. The warehouse had been big. And tall. Like three-storeys high, with windows high up on the walls. But it had been the wooden ledge, supported on pillars and high up, almost near the windows that had caught her eye. She had stepped forward, looking at the steps that led to the platform ledge and headed to them, climbing them slowly. Reaching the top, she had stepped on the platform, almost as big as the entire guest room of the Queen mansion, at level with two huge windows in the walls and looked down at the spacious warehouse. So spacious.

It had been completely unconventional, completely unlike anything she could have ever imagined. But watching the empty space, she had seen them build their home here, she had seen them living there. It needed work but it had been perfect.  

She had turned to Oliver, seeing him watch her, and said, "This will be the bedroom."

Oliver had smiled and they had gone on to discuss what all had needed work from the painting to the flooring and some construction to the security, and she had felt herself get more and more animated about the thought of living there. They had left and Felicity's had asked about the ownership of the warehouse. Oliver had rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and told her, "Um... we kind of already own the place, Felicity."   

She had raised her eyebrows at that and he had explained that the warehouse was one of the abandoned ones of QC.  He had stumbled upon it while vigilante-ing at night and he had been hit by how perfect the place had been. Location wise, it was close to Verdant and the city, the woods started just at the edge of it. It was private and secluded yet well connected. And it had a lot of flat surfaces. 

They had returned to the hotel and Felicity had let him go with a kiss, thrilled at finding a house finally. That night, her mother and Ms. N had had a late flight back to Vegas, so she had suggested dinner at the restaurant, with Oliver's immediate family and hers. And she had regretted it for the rest of the night. Things between Walter and Moira Queen had been teetering ever since he had been rescued, so only Moira Queen had come to dinner with her perfect immovable hair and Oliver. Thea had been busy. And Felicity had excused herself in the middle of the second course to escape the tension and the awkwardness and ran to the balcony. The side-eyes that had turned to outright stares between Donna and Moira and Ms. N had made swallowing super hard for her. 

Oliver had come after her, Green Room amused (that had become it's default setting recently) and tried to calm her down from freaking out. She had still freaked out. He had shut her up with a kiss. Then they had made out. She had felt better. And they had returned.

To the biggest shock.

The three older women had been smiling. And the most awkward dinner in her history had become the most surreal one as she saw them smile and talk about their days. Oliver had looked at them with a smile. Felicity had been robotic. In denial.

And then they had parted ways and Moira Queen had given her a nod. Later that night, her mom had left with tears. Ms. N had smiled at Oliver sagely before hugging her, whispering in her ear, "Your destiny chose well."

Indeed it had.

And the next weeks had been a blur. Changes had happened every which way. With Tommy stepping up at Merlyn Global to keep the family company from crashing and burning (and he told her later it was for the employees and not any attachment to the empire itself), putting his business degree to good use, the club had fallen under Oliver's management. Which had sucked. While Felicity knew he was many things, and definitely a brilliant leader, between his night job and everything else, managing a club had not been his forte. But it had been Thea's. And she had stepped in Tommy's shoes just as gracefully as she walked, and she was actually taking care of the club way better than either of the men had. Go, girl power.

Oliver, in the meantime, had gotten a little more serious about the day, and after discussions, and Moira Queen's great surprise, he had agreed to work with Walter to at least learn the bare running of the company, not aspiring for the CEO's place, but just something in between. Felicity had breathlessly told him in one of their post-coital moments in her suite that he looked so yummy in suits. Oliver had nuzzled her neck and whispered that one of his reasons for joining QC had been to be closer to her during the day as well. Then, she had pulled him on top of her and they had gone for a vigorous round three.

But she had taken two weeks off work and gotten the work on the warehouse started while Oliver was with Walter. Workers had come in and repainted the entire warehouse in white. The floor had been cleaned and hardwood floorboards put in. The lighting had been added to the entire place and pillars had been reconstructed. The stairs leading to the platform ledge had been redone and so had the ledge. Wooden railing had been added along the edge of it and a master bathroom had been constructed, with a bathtub and shower and two granite sinks, in the right of the platform, tiled in black and gold. Downstairs, the section of the floor on the right side had been raised three steps and an open modular kitchen and dining area had been added, with granite counter and stools and a table for six, all done in rich mahogany and cream. The center of the area was the living area, with two sets of super soft beige sofas and a table, lamps on the either side.

The space under the high platform rise, had had the pillars converted to proper walls, making the area a cozy, little (not little at all) alcove, which housed her two home computers and two floor to platform shelves for her books, and a small seating area for two. The left wall had been installed with an electric fireplace, with a huge painting, the one from her apartment, above it. The doors were reinforced and the outside area was fenced off with a huge gate, a small garage that housed their two cars and Oliver's bike, and the security of which Oliver and Digg had handled completely. 

In the next two weeks, Felicity and Oliver had picked out curtains, furniture for downstairs, and their new bed, a beautiful Queen-size (and yes, she had shamelessly used that one) high wooden bed with a sleek, high headboard, very good for holding on while doing activities. They had also moved in her stuff from her apartment and his stuff from the mansion, with the help of Digg and his arms, littering the space with their knick-knacks- pictures of her mom and Ms. N and Stana and Tommy and Thea and his parents and them, lots of them, that decorated the walls; personal mugs and crockery in the kitchen; books and stationary in the computer area; their clothes hanging in the huge, spacious built-in closet beside the bathroom; toiletries in the bathroom and cosmetics in the dressing area. All in all, three weeks later, they had moved in and made it a home. Their home.  

The remodeling had taken time, and money, half of which she had insisted she would be paying. They had gotten in each others faces about it and refused to budge. Oliver had been dead serious on paying for it all and Felicity had been dead serious on not and they had fought like they never had before and Oliver had marched away angrily. He had returned two hours, and she suspected two dummies, later and slid in her bed and softly apologized for shouting at her, then made slow, soft love to her till her toes curled, and still sighed grumpily. He always did that after he lost an argument in face of her logic. 

And tonight, on this beautiful, crisp Friday night, after exactly three days of moving in, Felicity, with the help of Thea, had decorated the whole house for Oliver's first birthday back in the land of the living so to speak. Felicity had asked Tommy to keep Oliver busy, which wouldn't have been so hard to do since they were still finding their feet in the aftermath, but going well at it. Stana had come over and they had baked a cake, mainly Stana had since she was a whiz with the oven, and Felicity and Thea had decorated the house with candles and prepared dinner. Felicity knew that Oliver would love it with only the important people of their lives present. The only person missing was Digg, who had taken a week off to go help a friend, Lyla, who worked in some super shady government organization that Felicity was not supposed to know anything about but did. And she missed Digg. He was the bomb. The best. And super funny. And watching him throw shade at Oliver cracked her up every time. Digg was, well, Digg to her. And she knew Oliver missed him too.

But tonight was for Oliver and she had tried the entire day, while preparing, to keep her emotions at bay, to keep him from feeling anything weird like her urge to start jumping and bouncing, etc etc. And it was almost midnight and everything was ready and they were waiting. The table in the center had the cake, candles were illuminating the entire space, and there were green and red balloons everywhere.

"Fell!"

Stana's insistent voice broke her out of her musings and brought her back to the now. 

"Yeah?" Felicity asked, forgetting what they were talking about, sitting on the stool in the kitchen with Thea, wearing a casual silver top and dark pants, looking a million dollars, opposite her and Stana, in her smart brown dress with a wide white belt, beside her. 

Thea rolled her eyes, addressing Stana. "Yeah. Our moms surprisingly did not only exist but exchanged stories of their old decades and how things used to be."

Felicity frowned at Thea. "How do you know?"

Thea grinned devilishly, like her brother. "I have my sources." Which was not very reassuring. But who was she to speak when she hacked organizations and lived with an arrow-wielding vigilante. 

She knew in her Green Room that he was home even before her phone buzzed with the text from Tommy. 

 

**_'Parking the car. Get ready.'_ **

 

Over the last few weeks, she knew when Oliver was home, or rather with her, even before she saw him. His Green Room would literally sigh, if it could sigh, in contentment. And her tummy would be overtaken with butterflies. Like they were now.

She got up quickly, straightening her cute pink top with little ruffles on the sleeves and a short black skirt. Oliver loved that skirt. He loved taking it off even more. She grinned. 

"They are here."

They quickly got up at the words and went to stand around the table and Felicity turned on the soft music in the background, letting herself bounce once on her toes with excitement and all the love she felt for the man. He deserved a happy birthday more than anyone else.

Before she could go down another musing lane, the alarm beeped and the steel doors opened, Tommy entering the space followed by Oliver, who froze in his tracks as soon as his eyes came to the entire loft. She felt his shock in her own body, slowly turning to understanding and then such an acute wave of love that her knees almost trembled from the force of it.

They all shouted a loud "Happy birthday" as Oliver came forward towards the table, his face split in the biggest smile Felicity had ever seen, shaking his head at all of them.

"I'm assuming you knew about this?" he asked Tommy, who was wiggling his eyebrows and grinning.

"Knew? This was my idea, buddy," Tommy said in a mock offensive manner.

Thea slapped his arm and raised her voice. "Seriously? Your idea? When did you get a brain cell to come up with something like this?"

Stana chimed in. "I second that."

"Hey!" Tommy started to argue and Felicity giggled, watching them bicker, her eyes on a chuckling Oliver.

"Can I cut my first cake in five years, guys?" Oliver asked after clearing his throat, so very amused.

They all gathered around the table and Thea handed him the knife and Felicity got the camera out, ready to snap pictures. The cake was simple chocolate with chocolate icing and a bold "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OLIVER" written on top of it in Stana's neat writing. Felicity saw Oliver watch the cake for long moments, his Green Room getting pensive, and she knew she had to snap him out of wherever he had gone in his head.

So, she clicked her first picture and watched him blink back, up at her, a small smile curling his lips as she snapped another picture of his handsome, half-smiling face.

Shaking his head, he touched the knife to the cake and they all burst out singing the birthday song loudly, and completely off-key, while she kept clicking pictures and the rest of them clapped and smiled and Oliver cut a slice of the cake. He picked up the piece and offered it to Thea, kissing her cheek and murmuring something in her ear. Felicity smiled, loving the love he had for his sister, and clicked pics. He then offered the cake to Tommy, and then they hugged like guys did, and it made her heart melt. They were more brothers than anything else, and she knew they would be okay come what may.

Oliver gave a slice of the cake to Stana as well, with a genuine smile and his thanks for baking it, as Thea helpfully informed him. Stana grinned back and told him to direct any other billionaires he knew her way. Tommy cleared his throat. Stana threw him side-eyes. And all was right in the world.

And Felicity clicked pictures, waiting for Oliver to offer her the cake. And he did not. She frowned, not understanding and watched him cut a tiny slice and eat it. Seriously? He ate a slice before giving her one? That too in front of their friends?

Before she could frown about it, Oliver was moving towards her with that intent expression on his face that made her tummy fall and her hands go down. He stepped right in her personal space and before she could voice anything, his mouth slanted on hers, his tongue immediately parting her lips, her body catching fire as she tasted him, his tongue feeding her the icing that had been on the cake. He had just fed her the slice of cake. In his unique Oliver way. Her heart stuttered at his action, the ways he surprised her everyday still astounding her and keeping her off balance.

She was kissing him back intently when Thea's loud voice pierced their bubble. "Will you guys suck faces after we have gone? This is TMI magnified."

Oliver pulled back with a smile and pulled Felicity by the hand, towards the dining area, talking to Thea. "Since when do you call kissing 'sucking faces'?"

Thea joined in with the other two, raising her eyebrows. "I thought you'd prefer that to tongue hockey, Ollie."

Oliver sighed. Tommy chuckled. "Or throat samba."

Stana provided. "Cake exchange."

"That one sucked, Stana," Tommy commented.

Felicity sat down and started serving the Italian they had cooked, while everyone continued bickering, feeling a wave of contentment wash over her. 

Everything was right in the world.

 

                                                       ---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was 2 by the time everyone left.

After dinner, they had unwrapped the gifts for Oliver. Stana had gotten him a a pair of cuff links with his initials on it, while telling them the story of how she had always told Felicity that she would approve of her boyfriend by giving him cuff links, officially telling Oliver he was approved of. Oliver had grinned and thanked her. Tommy had given Oliver a collage of their pictures together, since they had been kids to teenagers to adults- every picture including their devil-may-care attitudes, their adorable dimples and so much love. Felicity had loved it and she had felt how moved Oliver had been by the memories they had had, and would make. Cue guy hug. The long one.

Then Thea being Thea had barged in and given Oliver a custom t-shirt that said "I am the Best Brother in the World. Just ask my sister." Oliver had grinned and kissed her on the head, murmuring something soft to her again. And then Thea had turned to Felicity and given her some new crockery for the house. That had been sweet of her.

But they had left finally- Stana going in her car alone, since she lived only a few blocks away, and Tommy taking Thea with him, after another hug to Oliver and a kiss on Felicity's cheek (and her skin still rebelled but she had learned to control it better). And then Felicity had gone back inside to clear the dishes while Oliver answered the birthday calls and replied to messages before going to bed.

She was putting in the dishes in the new dishwasher when she felt his hands come around her, just hugging her to his chest, his nose in her hair. Green Room was pensive again.

She shut the door of the washer and turned in his arms, facing him, and looked up at his face, rubbing his forearms, then clearing his frown by rubbing his brow. 

"Why so serious?" she asked softly, looking deep into his beautiful blue eyes. No matter how much she looked at them, it still knocked her right off every single time. 

Oliver locked his arms over her, picking her up suddenly and taking her to the expensive rug in front of the fireplace (one of the places they had not yet claimed with their bodies), laying her down and lying beside her, the light from the fire and the candles shadowing his face and setting it on fire, in such soft hues that it softened his features even more. 

Oliver stroked her collarbones, lying on his side, his head propped on one arm as he looked down at her, his Green Room thoughtful and slightly pained. 

"My first year away," he began softly, his eyes on her neck as he kept stroking it, "I didn't even realize a whole year had passed since the boat went down. Everyday seemed like it would be my last. Every breath seemed like it would be the last I breathed."

Felicity's heart clenched in his pain but she stayed silent, letting him feel her support, knowing he had to get this off his chest. He had so much,  _so much,_  bottled up inside him.

He began speaking again, his eyes focused on her neck, still in the same low voice. "The second year was the same. I was actually surprised I had survived for as long as I had. I had only wanted to come home. To Thea. Mom. Set things right with Laurel. And I lived everyday knowing it was almost like wishing for the moon. Everyday, that dream seemed farther away."

He took in a deep breath but continued. "I actually left the island after the second year. Went to China. And a lot of other places. But I went back to the island, to let people find me, because I did not want anyone knowing where I had been, who I had become. I did not like who I had become but it was the only one I could be. And I came back. And it was not home. Thea was here, but she had changed. Everyone had. And the man I had become could not adapt. I became a pretender, even with the people closest to me. I was alone."

His eyes moved up to her face then, and she looked back at him, letting him feel her. "You, Felicity. You changed things. You made me a man I like now. You made me adapt with the people, saved my relations. But most importantly, you made me realize, in my darkest of moments, that I was not alone. To a man who had nothing, you just became everything."

Felicity's breath hitched at his words, her heart pounding, bursting with the love for this man.

"For five years, my birthday was something I did not even care for. In fact, I kind of hated it. I didn't understand why I had been born. But I looked at people and thought if I would ever cut a cake again, be with the people I love again. Hell, even smile again. And I don't know what brought you into my life, but I thank it every second of everyday. I don't want to imagine the kind of person I would be without you, Felicity. Love does not even begin to cover what I feel for you. If I had to live those five years knowing I would be getting to you in the end, I would do it. In a heartbeat."

"Oliver..." Felicity began, moisture gathering in her eyes.

"I would," he cut her off. "This house, everything would mean nothing without you. You are my home. Coming home is coming to you."

Felicity swallowed the lump in her throat and Oliver's fingers brushed on her elevated pulse.

"You are the gift for all my birthdays, Felicity. You are the gift."

Her chest heaved as she breathed in heavily, her hands gripping his head, biting her lip. She felt the Green Room flooded with that love for her, and she told him, just as silently. He was her gift. And if she had nothing else, this, right here with him, would make her happy.

Oliver smiled softly at her, content, and then she saw his eyes rove her up and down, the tenor of the Green Room changing, making her tummy flutter.

"I noticed the skirt," he said huskily, his eyes piercing hers.  

"I knew you would," she replied, her voice throatier than she would have thought possible. "I have a gift for you."

Oliver's eyes softened on hers. "Later."  
She nodded. It could wait. 

They slowly undressed each other, their rhythm familiar yet every brush of skin as tantalizing as the first time, every deliberate caress as acute, every heavy breath as warm. This was a practiced dance yet so very new. This would not get old for them, not if it felt this fantastic every time. Clothes strewn about, Oliver slowly kissed every inch of her skin, melting her to a puddle on the rug, his scruff rubbing against her skin in that delicious way, his hands rasping against her skin in exploration, his mouth unleashing devastation on her senses, stringing her higher.

"Oliver..." she whined, breathy, "it's your birthday. Let me..."

"Later," he growled against the top of her breast, nipping her skin, making her mewl. "Let me enjoy my gift." 

He licked a stripe from the center of her chest to the navel, making her hips arch into his hands as they pushed her down. His tongue dipped and she keened, amazed, even after a month, at her body's responses to his touch. He played her like a maestro. He nipped her hipbones, pushing her legs over his shoulder but she was wet enough, and she wanted to give him his gift. So, she pulled him up. 

"I want you inside me," she muttered against his mouth. "Now."

"Why the hurry?" he asked softly, even as he entered her, stretching her, filling her. "We have the night."

"I,  _ah,_  want to give,  _oh god, yes,_  your gift,  _oh, don't stop_ ," she breathed out, in between moans. 

"I said it could wait," he growled, thrusting in slowly, angling her pelvis to hit her spot on every thrust. Oh, he was  _good._

And the fact that they could have a conversation while he was inside her and working his hips, oh so good, said a lot about how much their relation had progressed. 

"Oliver," Felicity started and then groaned as he hit  _hard_. "I have been dying to tell,  _oh yes,_  you about it. I can't,  _um yeah,_  wait anymore. It's,  _oh holy baby jack, ah, Oliver!"_

He suddenly switched up pace, rapidly moving in and out of her, making her forget her string of thought, everything except his name. Oliver Queen knew friction. He knew it  _well._

"Felicity, I never thought I'd say this but" he ground out. "Baby, stop talking." 

"You would say that,  _ah,_  now that you are in,  _oh yes,_  my pants," she countered back. Green Room was back to default. Hot default. 

"Baby," Oliver said, and she felt like doing anything when he called her baby. "I'm way more in than your pants."

And he demonstrated it effectively. By thrusting in. Smartass.  

She thrust back, aiding him, her body slowly reaching the pinnacle, exploding around him as she clenched her fingers in his back and her walls on his erection, flexing her hips reflexively, groaning out his name, every nerve in her body a live wire, every breath in her lungs a rush. He thrust in once, twice, thrice before burying his face in her neck and burying his cock in her core, filling her as he came, groaning against her skin, kissing her pulse repeatedly.

She kissed his temple as he stayed inside her, both of them relaxing a little, with him still buried inside her. This was another thing she had learned about him. Oliver liked to stay inside her heat, wrapped by her walls, as long as physically possible. Another thing she had learned about him was that he remained semi-hard after the first round, a little less hard after round two, and soft after round three. Her walls would be slayed and out for the count by then. Well, she had known and stopped questioning it long ago. Oliver had a magic penis after all. Good for her.

"Happy birthday, Oliver," she murmured right over his ear, her hands in his hair.

His lips came to hers, kissing her deeply, and she felt the Green Room blazing again and his magic penis hardening again, right inside her (and that never ceased to amaze her too), stretching her used muscles again for the next round, the kiss getting wetter and his hands getting bolder on her body, his magic penis twitching inside her, now completely hard.  

She figured the video of Robert Queen to Oliver that she had stumbled upon could wait after all.

She knew living with each other would not be easy. They would drive each other up the walls and be unknowingly hurtful too. They would be have angry moments and angry words and angry everything too. They would have wounds and fights and close calls. And they would have misunderstandings.

But they would also always have this. Not just the sex, which would always be there, angry or sweet or rough or any kind. But also the Green Room and his room for her. Also this all-encompassing feeling that transcended love. Also sleepy mornings and late nights, coffee and showers, and everything domestic. They would have friends and family and a city to save each night and a home to come back each night to everything. They would have home. 

She would have him. 

And she would also have rug burns to match her beard burns in the morning if they continued there. 

Not that she minded at all.

Destiny wasn't such a bad thing after all. Not at all.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and being my partner in this journey. It wouldn't have been possible without you!
> 
> Now that this one is done, I am going to start another one, most likely by next week. More on it later :)
> 
> Take care, peeps!
> 
> I hope this is the first of many stories to come :)

**Author's Note:**

> Come say Hi to me on  
> TUMBLR : supersillyanddorky06.tumblr.com  
> TWITTER : @dorky06


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